A^ 


ViiK*U»fM?i\ 


iJCSB  LlbRARV 


THE 


FAMILY    VISITOR. 


JOHN    HAYWARD, 

AUTHOR  OF  THE  NEW  ZMOLAND  GAZETTEER, 


BOSTON: 
WEEKS,   JORDAN,    AND    COMPANY. 

NEW   VORK  :    TANNER  AND   DISTURNELL. 

PBILASELPHIA:     WILLIAM   MARSHALL   AND   COMPANY. 

BALTIMORE  :     GUSHING   AND   BROTHERS. 

1840. 


0^  For  the  Index  to  this  work,  see  p.  221. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1840,  by 

John  Hayward, 

In  the  Clerk's  OfGce  of  the  District  Court  of  the  District  of  Massachusetts. 


STEREOTYPED  AT  THE 
80ST0N  TTFS  AND  STEREOTYPE  FOUNDRY. 


PREFACE. 


All  we  have  to  say  by  way  of  preface  to  our  little 
book,  is  that,  with  the  exception  of  the  Chronological 
Sketch  of  Great  Britain,  some  tables,  and  statistical 
accounts,  it  is  composed  principally  of  selections  and 
quotations  from  works  of  acknowledged  merit,  most 
of  which,  we  are  persuaded,  will  increase  in  value  as 
time  advances ;  and  that,  while  we  express  our  thanks 
to  those  friends  who  have  kindly  assisted  in  its  prep- 
aration, we  cannot  but  indulge  the  hope  that  the 
Visitor  will  become  a  welcome  companion  to  many 
families,  by  imparting  some  moral,  pleasing,  and  use- 
ful lessons. 

February,  1840. 


rc3=N0TICE, 


The  Editor  of  the  Northern  Register  desires  to  inform  his  friends 
and  the  public,  that  his  best  efforts  are  constantly  exerted  to  procure 
materials  for  that  work  ;  and  that,  through  the  kindness  of  many  friends 
in  New  England,  a  large  mass  of  information  is  already  received ;  but 
still,  the  requisite  materials  are  so  exceedingly  numerous  and  difficult 
to  be  obtained,  he  is  reluctantly  compelled  to  say,  that  the  work  cannot 
go  to  press  until  July,  1840.  This  delay  in  its  publication  will  give  to 
agents,  and  to  others,  who  may  take  an  interest  in  the  work,  ample 
time  to  collect  and  arrange  their  materials,  and  thus  render  the 
Register  more  valuable  to  the  community. 

tCr  See  CiRCDLAR,  at  the  close  of  this  volume. 


*^*  A  number  of  intelligent  and  faithful  Book  Agents  may  obtain 
constant  employment,  and  a  very  liberal  compensation,  on  personal 
application  to  the  Editor. 


THE 


FAMILY     VISITOR. 


ON  CLOTHING. 


A  VERY  Striking  fact,  exhibited  by  the  Bills  of  Mortality,  is  thq 
very  large  proportion  of  persons  who  die  of  consumption.  It  is  not 
our  intention  to  enter  into  any  general  remarks  upon  the  nature  of 
that  fatal  disease.  In  very  many  cases,  the  origin  of  a  consumption 
is  an  ordinary  cold ;  and  that  cold  is  frequently  taken  through  tlie 
want  of  a  proper  attention  to  clothing,  particularly  in  females.  We 
shall,  therefore,  offer  a  few  general  remarks  upon  this  subject,  so 
important  to  the  health  of  all  classes  of  persons. 

Nothing  is  more  necessary  to  a  comfortable  state  of  existence  than 
that  the  body  should  be  kept  in  nearly  a  uniform  temperature. 
The  Almighty  wisdom,  which  made  the  senses  serve  as  instruments 
of  pleasure  for  our  gratification,  and  of  pain  for  our  protection,  has 
rendered  the  feelings  arising  from  excess  or  deficiency  of  heat  so 
acute,  that  we  instinctively  seek  shelter  from  the  scorching  heat  and 
freezing  cold.  We  bathe  our  limbs  in  the  cool  stream,  or  clothe  our 
bodies  with  the  warm  fleece.  We  court  the  breeze,  or  carefully 
avoid  it.  But  no  efforts  to  mitigate  the  injurious  effects  of  heat  or 
cold  would  avail  us,  if  nature  had  not  furnished  us,  in  common  with 
other  animals,  (in  the  peculiar  functions  of  the  skin  and  lungs,)  with 
a  power  of  preserving  the  heat  of  the  body  uniform,  under  almost 
every  variety  of  temperature  to  which  the  atmosphere  is  liable.  The 
skin,  by  increase  of  the  perspiration,  carries  off  the  excess  of  heat ; 
the  lungs,  by  decomposing  the  atmosphere,  supply  the  loss ; — so  that 
the  internal  parts  of  the  body  are  preserved  at  a  temperature  of  al>out 
ninety-eight  degrees,  under  all  circumstances.  In  addition  to  the 
important  share  which  the  function  of  perspiration  has  in  regulating 
the  heat  of  the  body,  it  serves  the  further  purpose  of  an  outlet  to  tlie 
constitution,  by  which  it  gets  rid  of  matters  that  are  no  longer  useful 
in  its  economy. 


4  THE    FAMILY    VISITOR. 

The  excretory  function  of  the  skin  is  of  such  paramount  impor- 
tance to  health,  that  we  ought  at  all  times  to  direct  our  attention  to 
the  means  of  securing  its  being  duly  performed;  for  if  the  matters 
that  ought  to  be  thrown  out  of  the  body  by  the  pores  of  the  skin  are 
retained,  they  invariably  prove  injurious.  When  speaking  of  the 
excrementitious  matter  of  the  skin,  we  do  not  mean  the  sensible 
moisture  which  is  poured  out  in  hot  weather,  or  when  the  body  is 
heated  by  exercise ;  but  a  matter  which  is  too  subtile  for  the  senses  to 
take  cognizance  of —  which  is  continually  passing  off  from  evei-y  part 
of  the  body,  and  which  has  been  called  the  insensible  perspiration. 
This  insensible  perspiration  is  the  true  excretion  of  the  skin. 

A  suppression  of  the  insensible  perspiration  is  a  prevailing  symp- 
tom in  almost  all  diseases.  It  is  the  sole  cause  of  many  fevers.  Very 
many  chronic  diseases  have  no  other  cause.  In  warm  weather,  and 
particularly  in  hot  climates,  the  functions  of  the  skin  being  prodi- 
giously increased,  all  the  consequences  of  interrupting  them  are 
proportionably  dangerous. 

Besides  the  function  of  perspiration,  the  skin  has,  in  common  with 
every  other  surface  of  the  body,  a  process,  by  means  of  appropriate 
vessels,  of  absorbing  or  taking  up,  and  conveying  into  the  blood-ves- 
sels, any  thing  that  may  be  in  contact  with  it :  it  is  also  the  part  on 
which  the  organ  of  feeling  or  touch  is  distributed. 

The  skin  is  supplied  with  glands,  which  provide  an  oily  matter 
that  renders  it  impervious  to  water,  and  thus  secures  the  evaporation 
of  the  sensible  perspiration.  Were  this  oily  matter  deficient,  the 
Bkin  would  become  sodden,  as  is  the  case  when  it  has  been  removed 
—  a  fact  to  be  observed  in  the  hands  of  washerwomen,  when  it  is 
destroyed  by  the  solvent  powers  of  the  soap.  The  hair  serves  as  so 
many  capillary  tubes  to  conduct  the  perspired  fluid  from  the  skin. 

The  three  powers  of  the  skin  —  perspiration,  absorption,  and  feel- 
ing —  are  so  dependent  on  each  other,  that  it  is  impossible  for  one  to 
be  deranged  without  the  other  two  being  also  disordered.  For  if  a 
man  be  exposed  to  a  frosty  atmosphere,  in  a  state  of  inactivity,  or 
without  sufficient  clothing,  till  his  limbs  become  stiff,  and  his  skin 
insensible,  the  vessels  that  excite  the  perspiration,  and  the  absorbent 
vessels,  partake  of  the  torpor  that  has  seized  on  the  nei'ves  of  feeling, 
nor  will  they  regain  their  lost  activity  till  the  sensibility  be  com- 
pletely restored.  The  danger  of  suddenly  attempting  to  restore  sen- 
sibility to  frozen  parts  is  well  known.  If  the  addition  of  warmth  be 
not  very  gradual,  the  vitality  of  the  part  will  be  destroyed. 

This  consideration  of  the  fimctions  of  the  skin  will  at  once  point 
out  the  necessity  of  an  especial  attention,  in  a  fickle  climate,  to  the 
subject  of  clothing.  Every  one's  experience  must  liave  shown  him 
how  extremely  capricious  the  weather  is  in  this  country.  Our  expe- 
rience of  this  great  inconstancy  in  the  temperature  of  the  air  ought 
to  have  instructed  us  how  to  secure  ourselves  from  its  effects. 

The  chief  end  proposed  by  clothing  ought  to  be  protection  from 
the  cold ;  and  it  never  can  be  too  deeply  impressed  on  the  mind, 
(especially  of  those  who  have  the  care  of  children,)  that  a  degree  of 
cold  that  amounts  to  shivering  cannot  be  felt,  under  ariy  circum- 
stances, without  injury  to  the  health ;  and  that  the  strongest  consti- 


ON   CLOTHING. 


tution  cannot  resist  the  benumbing  influence  of  a  sensation,  of  cold 
constantly  present,  even  though  it  be  so  moderate  as  not  to  occasion 
imnietliate  coniphiint,  or  to  induce  the  sufferer  to  seek  protection 
from  it  This  degree  of  cold  often  lays  the  foyndation  of  the  whole 
host  of  chronic  diseases,  foremost  among  which  are  found  scrofula 
and  consumption. 

Ptrsons  engaged  in  sedentary  employments  must  he  almost  con.- 
stantly  under  the  influence  of  this  degree  of  cold,  unless  the  apart- 
ment in  which  they  work  is  heated  to  a  degree  that  subjects  them, 
on  leaving  it,  to  all  the  daugere  of  a  sudden  transition,  as  it  were, 
from  summer  to  winter.  The  inactivity  to  which  such  ])ersons  are 
condenmed,  by  weakening  the  body,  rendere  it  incapable  of  main- 
taining the  degree  of  warmth  necessary  to  comfoi-t,  without  addi- 
tional clothing  or  fire.  Under  such  circumstances,  a  sufficient 
quantity  of  clothing  of  a  proper  quality,  with  the  apartment  mod- 
erately warmed  and  well  ventilated,  ought  to  be  preferred,  for  keep- 
ing uj)  the  requisite  degree  of  warmth,  to  any  means  of  heating  the 
air  of  the  room  so  much  as  to  render  any  increase  of  clothing  un- 
necessary. To  heat  the  air  of  an  ai)aitment  much  above  the  ordi- 
nary temperature  of  the  atmosphere,  we  must  shut  out  the  external 
air;  —  the  air  also  becomes  extremely  rarefied  and  dry,  which  cir- 
cumstances make  it  doubly  dangerous  to  pass  from  it  to  the  cold, 
raw,  external  air.  But  in  leaving  a  moderately  well-warmed  room, 
if  properly  clothed,  Uie  change  is  not  felt;  and  the  full  advantage  of 
exercise  is  derived  from  any  opportunity  of  taking  it  that  may  occur. 

The  only  kind  of  dress  that  can  afford  the  ])rotection  required  by 
the  changes  of  temperature  to  which  high  northern  climates  are  lia- 
ble, is  woollen.  Nor  will  it  be  of  much  avail  that  woollen  be  worn, 
unless  so  much  of  it  be  worn,  and  it  be  so  worn,  as  effectually  to  keep 
out  the  cold.  Those  who  would  receive  the  advantage  wliicii  the 
wearing  woollen  is  capableof  affording, must  wear  it  next  the  skin; 
for  it  is  in  this  situation  only  that  its  health-preserving  power  can  be 
felt.  The  gi-eat  advantages  of  Woollen  cloth  are  briefly  these ;  tlie 
readiness  with  which  it  allows  the  escape  of  the  matter  of  i)ei*spira- 
tion  through  its  texture  —  its  |)owcr  of  preserving  the  sensation  of 
warmth  to  the  skin  under  all  circumstances  —  the  difficulty  there  is 
in  making  it  thoroughly  wet  —  the  slowness  with  which  it  conducts 
heat  —  the  softness,  lightness,  and  pliancy  of  its  texture. 

Collon  cloth,  though  it  differs  but  little  from  linen,  approaches 
nearer  to  the  nature  of  woollen,  and  on  that  account  must  be  esteemed 
as  the  next  best  substance  of  which  clothing  may  be  made. 

Silk  is  the  next  in  point  of  excellence  ;  but  it  is  very  inferior  to 
cotton  in  every  respect. 

Linen  possesses  the  contrary  of  most  of  the  properties  enumerated 
as  excellences  in  woollen.  It  retains  the  matter  of  j)erspiration  in 
its  texture,  and  speedily  becomes  imbued  with  it ;  it  ^ives  an  un- 
pleasant sensation  of  cold  to  the  skin;  it  is  very  readily  saturated 
with  moisture,  and  it  conducts  heat  too  rapidly.  It  is,  indeed,  the 
worst  of  all  the  substtuices  in  use,  being  the  least  qualified  to  answer 
the  purposes  of  clothing. 

There  ai-e  several  prevailing  errors  in  the  mode  of  adaptiiig  clothes 


6  THE    FAMILY    VISITOR. 

to  the  figure  of  the  body,  particularly  amongst  females.  Clothes 
should  be  so  made  as  to  allow  the  body  the  full  exercise  of  all  its 
motions.  The  neglect  of  this  precaution  is  productive  of  more  mis- 
chief than  is  generally  believed.  The  misery  and  suffering  arising 
fl'oni  it  begin  while  we  ju-e  yet  in  the  cradle.  When  they  have 
escaped  from  the  nurse's  hands,  boys  are  left  to  nature.  Girls  have 
for  a  while  the  same  chance  as  boys  in  a  freedom  from  bandages  of 
all  kinds ;  but  as  they  approach  to  womanhood,  they  are  again  put 
into  trammels  in  the  forms  of  stays.    The  bad  consequences  of  the 

})ressure  of  stays  ai-e  not  immediately  obvious,  but  they  are  not  the 
ess  certain  on  tliat  account :  the  girl  writhes  and  twists  to  avoid  the 
pinching,  which  must  necessarily  attend  the  commencement  of 
wearing  stays  tightly  laced  ;  the  ])osture  in  which  she  finds  ease  is 
the  one  in  which  she  will  constantly  be,  until  at  last  she  will  not  be 
comfortable  in  any  other,  even  when  she  is  freed  fi'om  the  pressure 
that  originally  obliged  her  to  adopt  it.  In  this  way  most  of  the  de- 
formities to  which  young  people  are  subject  originate  ;  and,  unfor- 
timately,  it  is  not  often  that  they  are  perceived  until  they  have  be- 
come considerable,  and  have  existed  too  long  to  admit  of  remedy. — 
Fi'om  the  Companion  to  the  British  Almanac. 


ON   VENTILATION. 

Few  pei-sons  are  aware  how  very  necessaiy  a  thorough  ventilation 
is  to  the  preservation  of  health.  We  preserve  life  without  food  for 
a  considerable  time ;  but  keep  us  without  air  for  a  very  few  minutes, 
and  we  cease  to  exist.  It  is  not  enough  that  we  have  air  —  we  must 
have  fresh  air ;  for  the  principle  by  which  life  is  supported  is  taken 
from  the  air  during  the  act  of  breathing.  One  fourth  only  of  the 
atmosphere  is  capable  of  supporting  life  ;  the  remainder  serves  to 
dilute  the  pure  vital  air,  and  render  it  more  fit  to  be  respired.  A  full- 
grown  man  takes  into  his  lungs  nearly  a  pint  of  air  each  time  he 
breatlies ;  and  when  at  rest,  he  makes  about  twenty  inspirations  in  a 
minute.  In  the  lungs,  by  an  appropi'iate  appai-atus,  the  air  is  cx- 
j)Osed  to  the  action  of  the  blood,  which  changes  its  purer  part,  the 
vital  air,  (oxygen  gas,)  into  fixed  air,  (carbonic  acid  gas,)  which  is  not 
only  unfit  to  support  animal  life,  but  is  absolutely  destructive  of  it. 
An  admirable  provision  of  the  great  Author  of  nature  is  here  visible, 
to  prevent  this  exhausted  and  now  poisonous  air  from  being  breathed 
n  second  time:  —  wiiiie  in  the  lungs,  the  air  i-eceives  so  much  heat 
as  makes  it  sp  icifically  lighter  than  the  pure  atmosphere  ;  it  conse- 
quently rises  above  our  heacLs  during  the  short  pause  between  throw- 
ing out  the  breath  and  drawing  it  in  again,  and  thus  secures  to  us  a 
pure  draught.  By  the  care  we  take  to  shut  out  the  external  air  from 
our  houses,  we  prevent  the  escape  of  the  deteriorated  air,  and  con- 
demn ourselves  to  breathe  again  and  again  the  same  contaminated, 
unrefrcshing  atmosphere. 


ON    VENTILATION.  7 

Who,  that  has  ever  felt  the  refreshing  effects  of  the  morping  air, 
can  wonder  at  the  lassitude  and  disease  that  follow  the  continued 
breathing  of  the  pestiferous  atmosphere  of  crowded  or  ill-ventilated 
apartments  ?  It  is  only  necessary  to  observe  the  countenance  of 
those  who  inhabit  close  rooms  and  houses,  the  squalid  hue  of  their 
skins,  their  sunken  eyes,  and  their  languid  movements,  to  be  sensi- 
ble of  the  bad  effects  of  shutting  out  the  external  air. 

Besides  the  contamination  of  the  air  from  being  breathed,  there 
are  other  matters  which  tend  to  depreciate  its  purity  ;  these  are  the 
effluvia  constantly  passing  off  from  the  surface  of  animal  bodies,  and 
the  combustion  of  candles  and  other  burning  substances.  On  going 
into  a  bed-room  in  a  morning,  soon  af\er  the  occupant  has  left  his 
bed,  though  he  be  in  perfect  health,  and  habitually  cleanly  in  his 
person,  the  sense  of  smelling  never  fails  to  be  ofiended  witli  the 
odor  of  animal  effluvia  with  which  the  atmosphere  is  charged. 
There  is  another  case,  perhaps  still  more  sti'iking,  when  a  person 
fresh  from  the  morning  air  enters  a  coach  in  which  several  persons 
have  been  close-stowed  during  a  long  night.  He  who  has  once  made 
the  experiment  will  never  voluntarily  repeat  it.  The  simple  expe- 
dient of  keeping  down  both  windows  but  a  single  half-inch  would 
prevent  many  of  the  colds,  and  even  fevers,  which  this  injurious 
mode  of  travelling  often  produces.  If,  under  such  circumstances, 
the  air  is  vitiated,  how  much  more  injuriously  must  its  quality  be 
depreciated  when  several  persons  are  confined  to  one  room,  where 
there  is  an  utter  neglect  of  cleanliness ;  in  which  cooking,  washing, 
and  all  other  domestic  afiuirs  are  necessarily  performed  ;  where  the 
windows  ai-e  immovable,  and  the  door  is  never  opened  but  while 
some  one  is  passing  through  it ! 

It  may  be  taken  as  a  wholesome  general  rule,  that  whatever  pro- 
duces a  disagreeable  impression  on  the  sense  of  smelling  is  uufavor- 
able  to  health.  That  sense  was  doubtless  intended  to  guai'd  us 
against  the  dangers  to  which  we  are  liable  from  vitiation  of  the  at- 
mosphere. If  we  have,  by  the  same  means,  a  high  sense  of  gratifi- 
cation from  other  objects,  it  ought  to  excite  our  admiration  of  the 
boncficence  of  the  Deity  in  thus  making  our  senses  serve  the  double 
pur]>ose  of  affording  us  pleasure  and  security ;  for  the  latter  end 
might  just  as  effectually  have  been  answered  by  our  being  only  sus- 
ceptible of  painful  impressions. 

To  keep  the  atmosphere  of  our  houses  free  from  contamination, 
it  is  not  sufficient  that  we  secure  a  frequent  renewal  of  the  air  —  all 
matters  which  can  injure  its  purity  must  be  carefully  removed. 

F'lowersin  water,  and  living  plants  in  pots,  greatly  injure  the  purity 
of  the  air  during  the  night,  by  giving  out  large  quantities  of  an  air 
(carbonic  acid)  similar  to  that  which  is  separated  from  the  lungs  by 
breathing,  which,  as  before  stated,  is  highly  noxious.  On  this  ac- 
count diey  never  should  be  kept  in  bed-rooms ;  there  are  instances 
of  persons,  who  have  incautiously  gone  to  sleep  in  a  close  room  in 
which  there  has  been  a  large  growing  plant,  having  been  found  dead 
in  the  morning,  as  effectually  suffocated  as  if  there  had  been  a  char- 
coal stove  in  the  room. 

A  constant  renewal  of  tlic  air  is  absolutely  necessary  toils  purity; 


8  THE    FAMILY   VISITOR. 

for,  in  all  situations,  it  is  suffering  either  by  its  vital  pait  being  ab- 
sorbed, or  by  impure  vapors  being  disengaged  and  dispersed  through 
It.  Ventilation,  therefore,  resolves  itself  into  the  securing  a  constant 
supply  of  fresh  air. 

In  the  construction  of  houses,  this  great  object  has  been  too  gen- 
erally overlooked,  when,  by  a  little  contrivance  in  the  arrangement 
of  windows  and  doors,  a  current  of  air  might,  at  any  time,  be  made 
to  pervade  every  room  of  a  house  of  any  dimensions.  Rooms  can- 
not be  well  ventilated  that  have  no  outlet  for  the  air ;  for  this  reason 
there  should  be  a  chimney  to  every  apartment.  The  windows  should 
be  capable  of  being  opened,  and  they  should,  if  possible,  be  situated 
on  the  side  of  the  room  opposite  to,  and  furthest  from,  the  fire-place, 
that  the  air  may  traverse  the  whole  space  of  the  apartment  in  its 
way  to  the  chimney. 

Fire-places  in  bed-rooms  should  not  be  stopped  up  with  chimney- 
boards.  The  windows  should  be  thrown  open,  for  some  hours  every 
day,  to  carry  off  the  animal  effluvia  which  are  necessarily  separating 
from  the  bed-clothes,  and  which  should  be  assisted  in  their  escape 
by  the  bed  being  shaken  up,  and  the  clothes  spread  abroad,  in  which 
state  they  should  remain  as  long  as  possible ;  this  is  the  reverse  of 
tlie  usual  practice  of  making  the  bed,  as  it  is  called,  in  the  morning, 
and  tucking  it  up  close,  as  if  with  the  determination  of  preventing 
any  purification  from  taking  place.  Attention  to  this  direction,  with 
-regard  to  airing  the  bed-clothes  and  bed  after  being  slept  in,  is  of 
the  greatest  importance  to  persons  of  weak  health.  Instances  have 
been  known  in  which  restlessness  and  an  inability  to  find  refresh- 
ment from  sleep  would  come  on  in  such  individuals  when  the  linen 
of  their  beds  had  been  unchanged  for  eight  or  ten  days.  In  one  case 
of  a  gentleman  of  a  very  irritable  habit,  who  suffered  from  excessive 
perspiration  during  the  night,  and  who  had  taken  much  medicine 
without  relief,  he  observed  that,  for  two  or  three  nights  after  he  had 
fresh  sheets  put  upon  his  bed,  he  had  no  sweating ;  and  that,  after 
that  time,  he  never  awoke  but  that  he  was  literally  swimming,  and 
that  the  sweats  seemed  to  increase  with  the  length  of  time  he  slept 
in  the  same  sheets. 

Various  means  are  had  recourse  to  at  times,  with  the  intention  of 
correcting  disagreeable  smells,  and  of  purifying  the  air  of  sick-rooms. 
Diffusing  the  vapor  of  vinegar  through  the  air,  by  plunging  a  hot 
poker  into  a  vessel  containing  it ;  burning  aromatic  vegetables, 
smoking  tobacco,  and  exploding  gunpowder,  are  the  means  usually 
employed.  All  these  are  useless.  The  explosion  of  gunpowder 
may,  indeed,  do  something,  by  displacing  the  air  within  the  reach 
of  its  influence ;  but  then,  unfortunately,  an  air  is  produced  by  its 
combustion,  that  is  as  offensive,  and  equally  unfit  to  support  life,  as 
any  air  it  can  be  used  to  remove.  These  expedients  only  serve  to 
disguise  the  really  offensive  condition  of  the  atmosphere.  The  only 
certain  means  of  purifying  the  air  of  a  chamber  which  is  actually 
occupied  by  a  sick  person,  is  by  changing  it  in  such  a  manner  that 
the  patient  shall  not  be  directly  exposed  to  the  draughts  or  currents. 

No  fumigation  will  be  of  any  avail  in  purifying  stagnant  air,  or  air 
that  has  been  breathed  till  it  has  been  deprived  of  its  vital  part ; 


ON   THE    USE    OF    ANTHRACITE    COAL.  V 

Buch  air  must  be  driven  out,  when  its  place  should  be  inuriediately 
supplied  by  the  fresh,  pure  atmosphere.  The  readiest  means  of 
changing  the  air  of  an  apartment  is,  by  lighting  a  fire  in  it,  and  then 
throwing  open  the  door  and  windows ;  this  will  set  the  air  in  mo- 
tion, by  establishing  a  current  up  the  chimney.  The  air  which  has 
been  altered  by  being  breathed  is  essential  to  vegetable  life ;  and 
plants,  aided  by  the  rays  of  the  sun,  have  the  power  to  absorb  it, 
while  they  themselves  at  the  same  time  give  out  pure  vital  air.  This 
process,  going  on  by  day,  the  reverse  of  that  described  before  as 
taking  place  during  the  night,  is  continually  in  operation,  so  that  the 
purification  of  the  atmosphere  can  only  be  prevented  by  its  being 
preserved  in  a  stagnant  state.  —  /Vom  the  Companion  to  the  British 
Almanac. 


ON  THE  USE  OF  ANTHRACITE  COAL. 

[Abridged  from  Obsertatioxs  made  by  Professor  Olmsted,  of  Yale  College,  and 
published  in  the  American  Almanac  for  1837.] 

The  community  is,  as  yet,  but  imperfectly  acquainted  with  the 
proper  management  of  anthracite  coal.  Many,  during  the  first  year 
of  trial,  especially,  fail  to  derive  from  it  any  of  its  peculiar  advan- 
tages, while  they  suffer  many  inconveniences  not  incident  to  ordinary 
fires ;  and  they  arrive  at  a  knowledge  of  the  convenience  and  luxui-y 
of  a  well-constructed  fixe  of  anthracite  coal,  only  after  a  long  and  * 
troublesome  probation. 

Anlkracite  coed,  in  order  to  its  conwlete  combustion,  requires  to  he  kept 
constantly  at  a  h^h  temperature.  Tne  chierimpediment  to  the  free 
combustion  of  this  fuel,  is  its  cohesion.  Combustion,  it  must  be 
recollected,  arises  fi-om  a  chemical  action  between  the  fuel  and  air. 
When  a  spark  is  communicated  to  charcoal,  and  a  free  current  of 
air  is  admitted  to  it,  the  porous  stnicture  and  feeble  cohesion  of  the 
parts,  offer  little  resistance  to  the  action  of  the  air ;  but,  when  we 
attempt  the  same  process  with  anthracite  coal,  we  perceive  that  its 
compact  structure,  and  firm  cohesion,  oppose  the  chemical  combi- 
nation of  the  air  with  the  coal,  and  it  is  not  imtil  the  strength  of  the 
affinity  is  increased  by  raising  the  temperature  very  high,  that  the 
combustion  will  proceed.  And  if  an  anthracite  fire,  while  in  full 
operation,  is  by  any  cause  cooled  below  a  certain  temperature,  it 
burns  languidly,  or  goes  entirely  out.  Therefore,  to  prevent  its 
cooling,  the  furnace,  or  chamber  of  combustion,  must  be  lined  tcith  some 
non-conductor  of  heat.  Fire-bricks,  pots  of  baked  clay,  and  lutes  of 
similar  composition,  are  of  this  kind ;  while  cast-iron  pots  and  stone 
are  good  conductors,  and  therefore  unsuitable  for  our  purpose,  be- 
cause they  have  a  tendency  to  cool  the  coal  in  contact  with  them. 
A  large  fire  will  indeed  bum  in  such  furnaces  without  difficulty ; 
but  a  steady,  uniform,  and  mild  heat,  is  sometimes  required  to  suit 
the  different  states  of  weather,  and  this  cannot  be  easily  tnaintained 
unless  the  coal  is  surrounded  with  non-conductors,  which  efiectu- 


10  '  THE    FAMILY    VISITOR. 

ally  prevent  too  much  of  the  heat  from  escaping  directly  from  the 
chamber  of  combustion.  But  when  thus  surrounded,  then,  by  means 
of  dampers,  wliich  increase  or  diminish  the  draught  at  pleasure,  we 
may  have  a  perfect  control  over  our  apparatus,  and  can  raise  or 
lower  the  heat  as  suits  the  circumstances. 

JVo  air  must  pass  into  the  pipe  or  chimney,  but  Siich  as  traverses 
the  fire. 

This  rule  is  essential,  in  a  greater  or  less  degree,  in  all  sorts  of 
fires ;  but  it  is  peculiarly  important  in  a  fire  of  anthracite  coal,  on 
account  of  the  great  resistance  which  air  meets  with,  in  its  passage 
through  a  thick  bed  of  coal  or  coal  ashes.  If  the  air  can  find  its 
way  freely  to  the  rarefied  space  in  the  chimney,  by  some  other 
avenue,  it  will  not  force  its  way  througli  the  fii-e  against  such  nn 
impediment.  The  consequence  will  be,  that  the  chimney  will  be- 
come cold  by  the  influx  of  cold  air,  and  the  fire  will  burn  languidly, 
or  perhaps  go  out  spontaneously.  This  effect  is  sometimes  experi- 
enced in  open  grates,  during  the  coldest  weather.  The  cold  air 
flowing  into  the  chimney  above  the  fire,  cools  the  chimney  so  much 
as  to  destroy  the  draught ;  and  if  the  blower  is  applied  so  as  to  direct 
the  current  of  air  through  the  fire,  the  combustion  will  be  rapid  and 
intense  for  a  few  minutes,  until  the  finer  and  more  fusible  portions 
of  the  coal  are  melted,  and  flow  into  the  interstices,  and  stop  the 
free  circulation  of  air  through  the  fire,  after  which  the  fire,  although 
apparently  intense,  communicates  but  little  heat  to  the  apartment. 
In  a  close  stove,  well  regulated  by  dampers,  this  difficulty  may  be 
, completely  obviated;  since  here,  all  the  air  that  is  admitted  into  the 
chimney  may  be  such  as  has  passed  through  the  fire,  and  is  of  course 
warm,  while  only  so  much  air  may  be  suftered  to  traverse  the  fire 
as  will  keep  the  coal  at  a  full  red  heat,  —  a  temperature  which  it 
ought  never  to  exceed,  since,  if  it  rises  to  a  white  heat,  the  obstruction 
arising  from  the  fusion  of  the  finer  parts  will  impede  the  circulation 
of  air  through  the  fire,  and  the  linings  of  the  furnace  will  be  liable 
to  injury. 

Whenever  the  exterior  surface  of  a  stove  approaches  to  redness, 
the^ra^  bad  eflTect  is  to  contaminate  the  air.  It  acquires  a  burnt,  dis- 
agreeable odor,  which  is  not  only  unpleasant  but  unwholesome. 
The  odor,  however,  arises  not  from  the  air  itself,  (which,  at  every 
temperature,  ia  devoid  of  odor,)  but  from  the  actual  scorching  or 
combustion  of  particles  of  animal  or  vegetable  matter  that  is  always 
floating  in  the  air  of  an  apartment,  especially  in  a  room  where  there 
is  a  bed.  In  this  case,  the  fine  particles  of  down,  on  coming  in  con- 
tact with  a  very  hot  surface,  give  the  odor  of  burnt  feathers.  Persons 
liable  to  the  headache  are  most  unpleasantly  aflTected  by  such  an  air, 
and  it  is  especially  unsuitable  for  a  sleeping  apartment,  or  for  a  sick 
room,  where  the  air  ought  always  to  be  maintained  of  the  utmost 
purity. 

A  seconti  bad  eflTect  arises  from  the  excessive  efryjiess  thus  imparted 
to  the  air.  As  a  volume  of  air  is  raised  from  a  lower  to  a  higher 
temperature,  it  acquires  dryness  at  an  accelerated  rate  ;  that  is,  an 
increase  of  temperature  from  80°  to  90°,  for  example,  will  increase 
its  dryness  much  more  than  the  addition  of  10°  at  a  lower  tempera- 


ON   THE   USE    OF   ANTHRACITE    COAL.  XI 

ture,  as  from  50°  to  60°.  At  first  view,  it  might  seem  a  matter  of  no 
consequence,  in  raising  an  apartment  to  a  given  temperature,  as  70°, 
whether  it  were  heated  in  one  way  or  anotJier,  as  the  quality  of  the 
air,  in  respect  to  dryness,  would  be  the  same  in  all  cases.  It  makes, 
however,  a  great  difference,  whether  the  elevation  of  temperature  is 
produced  by  a  nearly  uniform  increase  of  heat  throughout  the  room, 
or  by  the  circulation  of  currents  of  air  highly  heated,  by  previous 
contact  with  a  red-hot  metallic  surface.  In  the  latter  case,  these 
currents  will  circulate  about  the  apartment  for  a  long  time,  before 
they  find  their  equilibrium,  and  will  be  unfit  for  respiration,  and  in- 
jurious to  the  wood- work  of  the  room,  and  to  the  cabinet  furniture. 

It  is  a  very  common  error,  in  the  use  of  close  stoves,  to  carry  the 
heat  of  family  apartments  too  high.  The  proper  temperature  is  70° 
for  the  parlor,  and  50°,  or  at  most  60°,  for  sleeping-rooms.  A  heat- 
ing apparatus  must  be  imperfect,  which  does  not  afford  the  means, 
by  a  skilful  management,  of  preserving  such  a  temperature  in  all 
vicissitudes  of  weather.  Whenever  the  temperature  of  a  room  ,is 
raised  above  70°,  the  air  begins  to  become  too  dry.  This  injures  its 
qualities  for  respiration,  and  endangers  the  safety  of  the  furniture 
and  panel-work.  Some  endeavor  to  correct  this  evil  by  attaching 
to  the  stove  an  evaporating  dish  of  water ;  but  this  precaution  is  un- 
necessarj',  unless  the  temperature  is  elevated  above  70°.  Up  to  this 
point,  the  air  is  none  too  dry  for  salubrity.  As  a  general  fact,  a  dry 
atmosphere  is  far  more  salubrious  than  a  humid  one. 

The  principles  laid  down  by  Professor  Olmsted  may  be  expressed 
in  a  few  short  peecepts. 

I.  The  chamber  of  combustion,  or  furnace,  must  be  lined  with  a ' 
good  non-conductor. 

IL  In  connecting  an  anthracite  stove  to  the  chimney,  all  joints 
must  be  dose,  so  as  to  afford  no  passage  to  the  air  except  through  the 
ftiniace. 

III.  The  temperature  must  not  be  raised  higher  than  a.fvU  red 
heat. 

TV.  Coal  should  in  all  cases  he  free  from  dust.      • 

V.  JVirf  coal  is  most  suitable  for  producing  a  mild  and  uniform 
heat,  to  be  kept  up  for  a  long  time.  When  a  tliick  bed  of  it  is  used 
at  once,  a  strong  draught  is  required.  Coarse  coal  is  adapted  to  the 
coldest  weather,  and,  in  intermediate  states  of  weather,  the  fire  of  a 
stove  may  be  built  of  coarse  lumps  below  and  fine  above. 

VI.  When  in  full  combustion,  anthracite  coal  requires  but  a  very 
little  air. 

VII.  No  part  of  a  stove  or  pipe  should  ever  become  red  hot. 
VUL  The  proper  temperature  of  family  apartments,  is  70° ;  of 

sleeping-rooms,  from  50°  to  60°. 

IX.  In  the  distribution  of  heat,  long  horizontal  pipes  are,  if  possi- 
ble, to  be  dispensed  with. 

X.  Stoves  and  pipes  should  be  effectually  cleaned,  and  refitted 
for  another  season,  immediately  after  the  time  for  fres  is  over.  During 
the  summer,  they  should  be  kept  in  a  dry  place. 


12  10  THE    FAMILY    VISITOR. 


WET  AND  COLD  FEET. 


What  a  crowd  of  painful  recollections  are  conjured  up  in  the 
mind  of  a  physician,  of  any  age  and  experience,  by  the  words  wd, 
feet !  Tlie  child  which  had  been  playing  about,  in  the  morning,  in 
all  its  infantile  loveliness  and  vivacity,  is  seized  at  night  with  croup, 
from  wet  feet,  and  in  a  day  or  two  is  a  corpse.  The  youthful  form 
of  female  beauty,  which  a  few  mouths  before  gladdened  the  eyes 
of  eveiy  beholdei',  is  now  wasting  in  slow,  remediless  decay.  What 
Was  the  origin  of  her  malady?  Wet  feet.  Let  us  hope  that  the 
exi)osure  was  incurred  in  a  visit  of  mercy  to  a  helpless  widow  or 
distressed  orphan.  Whence  come  the  lingering  disease,  the  pain 
and  suftering,  of  that  fond  mother  ?  Still  the  same  response  :  get- 
ting her  feet  wet,  while  providing  suitable  winter's  clothing  for  her 
children  —  as  if  tenderness  for  her  offspring  justified  her  dispensing 
with  all  the  rules  of  prudence  for  herself  Thus  we  might  continue 
the  melancholy  list  of  diseases,  at  best  harassing  and  alarming, 
often  fatal,  to  which  the  heedlessness  of  youth,  the  pride  of  man- 
hood, or  the  avarice  of  old  age,  are  voluntarily  and  causelessly  ex- 
posed by  a  neglect  of  one  lesson  of  every  day  experience. 

It  needs  no  medical  lore  or  labored  reasoning  to  show  the  great 
influence  which  impressions  on  the  feet  exert  over  the  rest  of  the 
body  at  large.  The  real  martyi'dom  produced  by  tickling  them,  and 
the  cruel  punishment  of  the  bastinado,  are  sensible  evidences  of 
their  exquisite  delicacy  of  feeling.  Of  this  fact  we  have  more 
pleasurable  experience  in  the  glow  diffused  through  the  whole  sys- 
tem, when,  chilled  and  shivering,  we  hold  them  for  a  while  to  the 
fire  ;  or  when,  during  the  prevalence  of  the  dog  star,  we  immerse 
them  in  cold  water,  to  allay  the  heat  which  is  then  coursing  through 
our  veins.  AreJ;he  internal  organs  of  the  body  a  prey  to  wasting 
inflammation,  as  in  the  hectic  fever  of  consumption,  there  is  a  sensa- 
tion of  burning  heat  in  the  feet.  Is  the  body  feeble,  and  the  stomach 
unable  to  pedbrm  its  digestive  functions,  these  paits  are  habitually 
cold.  In  both  health  and  disease  there  is  a  constant  sympathy  be- 
tween the  feet  and  the  different  organs  of  the  body.  Whatever  be 
the  weak  part,  it  suffers  with  unfailing  certainty  from  the  impres- 
sions of  cold  and  moisture  on  the  feet.  No  matter  whether  the 
tendency  be  to  sick-headache,  or  sore  throat,  hoarseness  and  cough, 
pain  of  the  stomach,  or  rheumatism,  or  gout  —  sevei-ally  and  all 
they  will  be  brought  on  by  getting  the  feet  wet,  or  at  times  even  by 
these  parts  being  long  chilled,  from  standing  on  cold  ground  or 
pavement.  Abq  who,  it  might  be  asked,  are  the  chief  victims  to 
such  exposures?  Not  the  traveller  caught  in  the  storm,  or  the 
man  of  business,  or  even  the  day-laborer,  who  cannot  always  watch 
the  appearance  of  the  clouds,  and  pick  their  steps  with  an  especial 
avoidance  of  a  muddy  soil,  or  wet  streets.  O  no !  we  must  look 
for  the  largest  number  of  sufferers  among  the  rich,  the  fair,  and 
the  lovely  of  the  land  —  those  who  need  only  walk  abroad  when 


WET   AND   COLD    FEET.  .  13 

invited  by  the  fair  blue  sky  and  shining  sun,  —  or  who,  if  pleasure 
calls  at  other  seasons,  Imve  all  tlie  means  of  protection  against 
the  elemental  changes,  which  wealtli  can  command  of  ingenuity 
and  labor.  They  it  is  who  neglect  suitable  protection  for  their 
feet,  and  brave  the  snow  and  rain  with  such  a  frail  covering  as 
would  make  tlie  strong  man  tremblfe  for  his  own  health,  were  he  to 
be  equally  daring. 

At  a  season  like  the  present,  it  would  seem  to  be  a  matter  of 
gratulation,  that  shoes  and  boots  can  every  where  be  obtained  of 
such  materials  as  to  preserve  the  feet  dry  and  wai'm.  Leather 
of  various  khids,  firm,  or  pliable  and  soft,  is  at  the  shortest  warning 
made  to  assume  every  variety  of  shape  and  figure,  called  for  by 
convenience  or  fashion.  But  we  mistake ;  Fashion,  that  despotic 
destroyer  of  comfort,  and  too  often  a  sworn  foe  to  health,  will  not 
allow  the  feet  of  a  lady  fair  to  be  incased  in  leather.  She  must 
wear,  forsooth,  cloth  shoes,  with  a  thin  leather  sole ;  and  even  this 
latter  is  barely  conceded.  A  covering  for  the  feet,  never  originally 
intended  to  be  seen  beyond  the  chamber  or  the  parlor,  is  that  now 
adopted  for  street  parade  and  travel ;  and  they,  whose  cheeks  we 
would  not  that  the  winds  of  heaven  should  visit  too  roughly,  brave 
in  pnmello  the  extremes  of  cold  and  moisture,  land  oifer  themselves 
as  willing  victims  to  all  the  suflerings  of  the  shivering  ague,  catarrh, 
and  pains  rheumatic.  Tell  them  of  a  wiser  course  ;  argne  with 
some  on  their  duties,  as  mothers  and  as  wives,  to  preserve  their 
health  —  >vith  others,  as  daughters  of  beauty,  who  are  risking  by 
approachmg  disease  the  loss  of  their  loveliness,  and  they  will  reply, 
that  they  cannot  wear  those  hon-id  large  shoes  —  that  leather' does 
not  fit  so  nicely  on  the  feet,  and  that  Lidia  rubber  shoes  are  fright- 
ful. They  do  not  reflect  that  beauty  consists  in  the  fitness  and 
harmony  of  things,  and  that  we  caimot  associate  it  with  the  ideas 
of  suffering  and  disease.  The  light  drnpery  so  gracefully  and  ele- 
gantly arranged  as  to  exhibit,  without  obtruding  her  figure,  is  wor- 
thy of  all  admiration  in  a  Grecian  nymph,  under  a  Grecian  sky,  and 
when  its  bearer  is  warmed  by  a  southern  sim.  The  muslin  robe 
of  one  of  our  beauties  of  the  ball-room  is  tasteful  and  appropriate 
when  lights  and  music  are  additions  to  the  scene ;  but  could  we 
preserve  our  admiration  for  the  Grecian  nymph  or  the  modem 
belle,  if  in  these  costumes  they  were  seen  walking  the  streets  mid 
sleet  and  wind  ?  Pity  they  would  assuredly  command ;  but  will  a 
female  be  content  with  the  offering  which  any  beggar  is  sure  of 
receiving  ?  VVe  have  gazed  on  the  finest  productions  of  the  chisel 
and  tfae  pencil  —  we  have  studied  beauty  with  the  admiration  of  a 
lover,  and  the  purposes  of  an  artist ;  and  we  do  assure  our  female 
readers  that,  howei'er  much  we  may  admire  a  small  and  finely- 
turned  foot  when  seen  tripping  through  the  mazes  of  the  dance, 
we  cannoklook  upon  it  with  a  pleased  eye,  unprotected  by  suitable 
covering  in  a  winter's  day.  This  covering  is  not  pnmello,  or  that 
most  flimsy  stuff  satirically  called  everlasting. 

But  how,  conceding  all  the  beauty  claimed  by  its  admirers  to  an 
exliibition  of  small  feet,  in  neat,  tight  shoes,  can  we  receive  this  as  a 
substitute  for  clear  complexion,  brilliant  lustre  of  the  eye,  and  the 
2 


r% 


14  THE     FAMILY     VISITOR. 

mild  sinjle  of  content,  all  lost  by  repeated  attacks  of  a  cold,  or  the 
coming  on  of  dyspepsia  and  sick-headache,  the  consequences  of  wet 
and  cold  feet  ?  —  Jotimal  of  Health. 


UNRIPE  FRUITS. 

When  man  praises  the  country  at  the  expense  of  the  city,  and 
contrasts  civic  with  rural  life,  to  the  disadvantage  of  the  formei*,  he 
but  gives  utterance  to  that  love  of  nature  and  of  natural  beauties, 
which  is  never  entirely  erased  from  his  mhid.  But  a  person  who 
assumes  for  the  one  ail  virtue,  real  happiness,  and  health,  and  can  see 
nothing  in  the  other  but  vice,  miseiy,  and  disease,  is  evidently  echomg 
the  dreams  of  poesy,  not  speaking  from  his  own  obsei-vation.  A  part 
of  this  Arcadian  reverie  consists  in  praising  the  robust  and  vigorous 
frame  of  the  counti-yman  and  farmer,  their  disregard  of  all  the  usual 
precautions  of  health,  and  the  impimity  with  which  they  expose 
themselves  to  tlie  common  causes  of  disease.  We  have  ourselves 
lived  in  the  country,  and  associated  with  farmers  and  their  families ; 
and  in  the  early  part  of  our  professional  career  had  occasion  to  see 
much  of  them;  and  we  know  full  well,  that  a  rural  population,  so 
far  from  claiming  exemption  from  disease,  acknowledge  and  feel 
sorely  its  withering  influence.  Catarrhs  and  rheumatisms  in  the 
wihter  and  spring  months,  bilious  colic,  inflammatory,  bilious,  and 
remittent  fevers,  and  intestinal  diseases,  in  the  summer  and  autumn, 
are  of  frequent  occurrence  among  them  —  not  from  the  nature  of 
their  occupation,  or  laborious  industry,  thougli  tbis  sometimes  comes 
in  for  a  share,  but  from  their  neglect  of  common  i)rudential  maxims. 
A  man  who  works  hard  in  the  hai-vest  field  all  day,  and  gets  drunk 
by  night,  or,  even  when  sober,  who  throws  himself  down  under  a 
tree,  or  on  the  grass,  who  drinks  much  cold  water,  or  eats  a  hearty 
supper  of  pie  or  cucumbers,  will  often  be  awaked  in  the  night  with 
all  the  pains  and  horrors  of  bilious  colic.  As  the  season  advances, 
if  he  expose  himself  in  tlie  night  to  dampness  and  chill,  alter  hai-d 
labor  in  the  sun  duringthe  day,  or  continue  to  indidge  his  apjietite 
lor  all  kinds  of  fruits,  or  drinks  fresh  cider,  he  will  be  seized  with 
I'emittent  or  intermittent  fever,  and  the  evils  in  their  train.  He  has 
not  the  iron  frame  that  poets  or  city  closet-writers  would  fain 
attribute  to  him :  he  may  be  exempt  from  nervousness  and  jj}'po- 
chondriasis,  and  many  ailments  so  common  in  the  city  ;d|l>ut,  on 
the  other  hand,  he  is  moi-e  liable  to  inflammatoiy  and  violent 
diseases,  which,  if  not  arrested,  will  speedily  Rill.  Indigestion  is 
not,  however,  by  any  means  unknown  to  the  countiy  pop^ilation  :  it 
is  generally  brought  on  by  excess  in  the  use  of  gross  food,  and  in- 
dulgence in  ardent  spirits,  or  fermented  liquors.  The  worst  case  of 
gout  we  ever  witnessed,  was  in  a  farmer  —  a  New  York  former,  who 
had  acted  on  the  belief,  that  he  could  cat  of  evciy  thing,  including 
Ills  sliced  cucumbers. 


UNRIPE    FnUITS.  15 

♦ 

As  to  the  etildren  in  the-  country,  they  are,  in  greater  proportion 
than  those  in  town,  subject  to  worms  and  the  concomitant  disorders 
of  indigestion,  indicated  by  a  jn'Otuberant  abdomen  and  sallow 
vistige :  convulsions  and  brain  fever  will  sometimes  vary  the  scene. 
These  children  suffer  from  the  trashy  fruit,  illy-cooked  vegetables, 
and  the  cucumbers  which  they  devour  —  not  so  much  as  city  cliil- 
dren  would  do,  because  they  take  more  exercise,  and  do  not  loa(l 
their  stomachs  with  such  a  variety  of  cakes  and  condiments  as 
these  latter ;  but  still,  they  do  suffer  seriously  and  dangerously,  and 
not  seldom  die  by  their  thus  making  a  fi'ee  port  of  their  stomachs. 

It  is  ver}'  pretty  to  talk  of  fruits  as  the  gills  of  nature,  which,  as 
meant  for  man's  refx'eshment,  cannot,  we  are  told,  be  injurious. 
But  people  ought  to  define  what  they  mean  by  fruit.  If  it  be  the 
matured  production  of  a  tree  or  shrub,  in  which  the  saccharine 
matter  is  properly  evolved  and  distributed  through  the  pulpy  matter, 
which  has  itself  lost  its  eai'ly  tenacity;  in  other  words,  if  it  be  ripe 
fruit  they  mean,  we  can  see  no  objection  to  moderate  eating  of  it. 
But  if  they  libel  tlie  worship  of  Pomona  to  such  a  degree  as  to  call 
early  green  apples  and  pears  —  little  shrivelled  peaches  —  water 
melons  without  a  particle  of  saccharine  juicQijn  them  —  plums  as 
hard  as  bullets  —  fit  offerings  at  her  shrine,^and  suitable  food  for 
either  a  rustic  or  civic  population,  why  then  we  would  condemn 
these  immature  dietists  —  to  eat  what  they  recommend.  As  well 
might  we  insist  on  the  consumption  of  darnel,  because  it  grows 
with  nutritious  grain,  or  of  ergot,  Ijecause  it  is  part  of  the  rje*  as 
talk  of  such  vile  trash  as  half  the  fruit  which  is  hawked  about  being 
fit  food  for  any  animals  except  swine ;  and  they  will  give  many  an 
extra  turn  after  a  meal  of  it 

In  fine,  it  may  be  safely  affirmed,  as  a  general  principle  in 
dietetics,  that  no  person,  whether  gentleman  or  clown,  liirmer  or 
townsman,  miner  or  sailor,  woman  or  child,  can  eat  with  impunity, 
much  less  with  advantage,  vegetable  matters  which  have  not  been 
softened  and  changed  by  culinary  processes ;  nor  fruit  which  has 
not  acquired  its  ultimate  degree  of  maturity  in  flavor  and  softness, 
or  which  has  not  undergone  a  somewhat  analogous  change  by  the 
action  of  fire,  as  in  boiling,  stewing,  roasting,  and  the  addition  of 
sugar.  The  exceptions  which  aiight  be  alleged  in  favor  of  lettuce, 
cress,  and  celery,  are  not  to  the  point,  since  they  are  not  used  as 
articles  of  nutriment,  and  are,  at  any  rate,  prone  to  disorder  those  per- 
sons who  have  weak  digestions.  And  then  again,  be  it  remembered 
that  the  eating  of  ripe  fruit  does  not  imply  the  necessity  of  swal- 
lowing tlie  skin  and  stone,  or  seed,  as  many  are  in  the  fashion  of 
doing.  Certain  it  is,  to  say  nothing  of  the  labor  to  which  the  poor 
stomach  is  put  on  the  occasion,  nature  never  intended  those  parts 
of  the  fruit  to  be  eaten ;  the  one  is  an  external  covering  for  the  pur- 
poses of  protecting  the  nutritious  part  proper — the  other  for  per-  * 
petuating  the  plant.  —  Journal  of  Health. 


16  THE    FAMILY    VISITOR. 


SLEEP. 

The  celebrated  John  Wesley,  who  paid  every  attention  to  the 
best  means  of  invigorating  his  body,  in  order  that  he  might  be  ena- 
bled to  exert  himself  tor  the  general  benefit  of  his  fellow-creatures, 
to  the  utmost  his  corporeal  and  mental  powers  would  allow,  informs 
us,  that  he  had  been  accustomed  to  awake  every  night  about 
twelve  or  one  o'clock,  and  lay  without  sleeping  for  some  time  :  he, 
therefore,  very  justly  concluded,  that  this  was  caused  by  his  lying 
m  bed  longer  than  nature  required.  To  be  satisfied  upon  this  point, 
he  procured  an  alarum,  which  awakened  him  next  morning  at  seven, 
nearly  an  hour  earlier  than  his  usual  time  of  rising.  —  He  still  lay 
awake  at  night.  The  ensuing  morning  he  rose  at  six ;  but  notwith- 
standing this,  he  lay  awake  the  second  night.  The  third  morning 
he  rose  at  five ;  but,  nevertheless,  lay  awake  the  third  night.  His 
next  hour  of  rising  was  at  four,  and  lying  no  longer  awake,  he,  for 
a  period  of  above  sixty  yeai's,  continued  the  same  practice ;  and, 
taking  the  year  round,  never  lay  awake  for  a  quarter  of  an  hour  at 
a  time,  during  a  month.  He  justly  adds,  that  by  the  same  experi- 
ment, rising  earlier  and  earlier  every  morning,  any  person  may  dis- 
cover how  much  sleep  he  really  stands  in  need  of  Mr.  Wesley 
W£is  in  the  habit  of  going  to  bed  at  ten,  so  that  by  rising  at  four,  he 
had  six  hours  uninterrupted  sleep,  which  he  considered  to  be  sufli- 
cient  for  his  own  health :  he,  however,  very  properly  remarks,  that 
invalids,  and  persons  of  a  delicate  constitution,  and  those  accus- 
tomed to  much  bodily  fatigue  during  the  day,  may  require  seven  or 
eight  hours'  sleep. 


SLEEPLESSNESS. 

"With  regai'd  to  the  treatment  of  sleeplessness,  a  very  few  worda 
will  suffice :  in  fact,  upon  this  head  little  more  can  be  said,  than  a 
recommendation  to  obviate  the  causes  from  whence  it  proceeds, 
and  the  effects  naturally  disappear.  We  may  mention,  however, 
that  where  there  is  no  specific  disease,  either  of  body  or  mind,  to 
which  the  want  of  sleep  can  be  imputed,  the  person  should  keep 
himself  in  as  cheerful  a  mood  as  possible  —  that  he  should,  if  his 
strength  permits,  rise  early  and  take  such  exercise  as  to  fatigue 
himself  moderately.  Studious  men  ought  to  avoid  late  reading ; 
and  on  going  to  bed  endeavor  to  abstract  their  minds  from  all 
intrusive  ideas.  They  should  strive  to  circumscribe  their  thoughts 
within  the  narrowest  possible  circle,  and  prevent  them  from  becom- 
ing rambling  or  excursive.  The  more  the  mind  is  brought  to  turn 
upon  a  single  impression,  the  more  closely  it  is  made  to  approach 
to  the  state  of  sleep,  which  is  the  total  absence  of  all  impressions. 


THE  DUTY  OP  ATTENTION  TO  HEALTH.  17 

"In  some  case^  of  restlessness,  sleep  may  be  procured  by  the  per- 
son getting  up  and  walking  for  a  few  minutes  about  the  room.  It 
is  not  easy  to  explain  on  what  principle  this  acts,  but  it  is  certain 
that  by  such  means  sleep  sometimes  follows,  where  previously  it 
had  been  solicited  in  vain.  It  is  a  common  practice  with  some  peo- 
ple to  read  themselves  into  slumber,  but  dangerous  accidents  have 
sometimes  arisen  from  this  habit,  in  consequence  of  the  lighted 
cfuidle  setting  fire  to  the  curtains  (or  covering)  of  the  bed.  A  safer 
and  more  effectual  way  is  to  get  another  person  to  read  ;  in  which 
case  sleep  will  very  generally  take  place,  especially  if  the  subject  in 
question  is  not  one  of  much  interest,  and  read  in  a  dry,  monotonous 
manner.  When  sleeplessness  proceeds  from  the  heat  of  the 
weather,  the  pei-son  should  lie  very  lightly  covered,  and  let  the  air 
circulate  freely  through  his  room.  When  it  arises  from  a  burning 
in  the  soles  or  palms,  these  parts  should  be  bathed  with  cold  vinegar 
and  water,  both  before  going  to  bed  and  during  the  existence  of  the 
heat ;  which  usually  occurs  two  or  three  hours  after  lying  down. 
Attention  must  also  be  paid  to  the  stomach  and  bowel.?,  as  th 
species  of  sleeplessness  generally  proceeds  from  a  disordered  8tal 
of  these  organs.  Hence  intemperance  in  eating  and  drinking  all 
indigestible  articles  of  food,  and  above  all  things  late  suppers, 
should  be  avoided. 

"  An  easy  mind,  a  good  digestion,  and  plenty  of  exercise  in  the 
open  air,  are  the  grand  conducives  to  sound  sleep:  —  and,  accord- 
ingly, every  man  whose  repose  is  indifferent,  should  endeavolPto 
make  them  his  owti  as  soon  as  possible." 


THE  DUTY  OF  AN  ATTENTION  TO  HEALTH. 

The  celebrated  English  moralist.  Dr.  Johnson,  has  eloquently 
enforced  the  duty  and  importance  of  an  early  attention  to  the  means 
of  preserving  health. 

"  Among  the  innumerable  follies,"  he  observes,  "  by  which  we  lay 
up  in  our  youth  repentance  and  remorse  for  the  succeeding  j)art  of 
our  lives,  there  is  scarce  any  against  which  warnings  are  of  less 
efficacy  than  the  neglect  of  health.  When  the  springs  of  motion 
are  yet  elastic,  when  the  heart  bounds  with  vigor  and  the  eye 
sparkles  with  spirit,  it  is  with  difficulty  that  we  are  taught  to  con- 
ceive the  imbecility  that  every  hour  is  bringing  upon  us,  or  to  hna- 
gine  that  the  nerves  which  are  now  braced  with  so  much  activity, 
will  lose  all  their  power  under  the  gripe  of  time,  relax  with  numb-  < 
ness,  and  totter  with  debility. 

"  Health  is  indeed  so  necessary  to  all  the  duties,  as  well  as 
pleasures  of  life,  that  the  crime  of  squandering  it  is  equal  to  the 
folly ;  and  he  that  for  a  short  gratification  brings  weakness  and 
diseases  upon  himself,  and  for  the'j)leasure  of  a  few  years  passed  in 
the  tumults  of  diversion  and  the  clamors  of  merrinaent,  condemns 
2* 


•♦ 


18  THE     FAMILY     VISITOE. 

tbe  matui'er  and  more  experienced  part  of  his  life  to  the  chamber 
and  the  couch,  may  be  justly  reproached,  not  only  as  a  spendthrift 
of  his  own  happiness,  but  as  the  robber  of  the  public, — as  a 
wretch  that  has  voluntarily  disqualified  himself  for  the  business  of 
his  station,  and  refused  that  part  which  Providence  assigns  him  in 
the  general  task  of  human  nature." 


HEALTH  PRESERVED  BY  RULES. 

Arespectaole  prelate.  Cardinal  de  Salis,  archbishop  of  Seville,  who 
died  A.  D.  1785,  at  the  advanced  age  of  110  years,  is  one  among 
many  instances  of  the  advantages  to  be  derived  from  rules.  When 
asked  what  system  he  obser\'ed,  he  used  to  tell  his  friends  —  "  By 
being  old  when  I  was  young,  I  find  myself  young  now  I  am  old." 

Though  it  is  not  often  we  can  draw  dietetic  rules  from  the  drama, 
or  enforce  in  its  language  the  advantages  of  temperance,  yet  the 
following  passage  from  Shakspeare  will  be  admitted  by  all  as  perti- 
nent to  our  present  purpose :  — 

"  Though  I  look  old,  yet  I  am  strong  and  lusty  j 
^  For  in  my  youth  I  never  did  apply 

Hot  and  rebellious  liquors  in  my  blood  3 
"(l^ll     Nor  did  not,  with  unbashful  forehead,  woo 
The  means  of  weakness  and  debility. 
Therefore  my  ase  is  as  a  lusty  winter — 
Frosty,  but  kindly." 


A  NERVOUS  LADY. 

"  Cselia  is  always  telling  you  how  provoked  she  is,  what  intoler- 
ably shocking  things  happen  to  her ;  what  monstrous  usage  she 
suffers,  and  what  vexations  she  meets  with  every  where.  She  tells 
you  tliat  her  patience  is  quite  worn  out,  and  there  is  no  bearing  the 
behavior  of  people.  Every  assembly  that  she  is  at,  sends  her  home 
provoked ;  something  or  other  has  been  said  or  done,  that  no  reason- 
able, well-bred  person  ought  to  bear.  Poor  people,  that  want  her 
charity,  are  sent  away  with  hasty  answers,  not  because  she  has  not 
a  heart  to  part  with  any  money,  but  because  she  is  too  full  of  some 
trouble  of  her  own,  to  attend  to  the  complaints  of  others.  Cselia 
has  no  business  upon  her  hands,  but  to  receive  the  income  of  a  plen- 
tiful fortune ;  but  yet,  by  the  doleful  tune  of  her  mind,  you  would 
be  apt  to  think  that  she  had  neither  food  nor  lodging.  If  you  see 
her  look  more  pale  than  ordinary,  if  her  lips  tremble  when  she 
speaks  to  you,  it  is  because  she  is  just  come  from  a  visit,  where 


<•  w  SYMPTOMS.  19 

Lupus  took  no  notice  at  all  of  her,  but  talked  all  the  time  to  Lucinda, 
who  has  not  half  her  fortune.  When  cross  accidents  have  so  dis- 
ordered lier  spirits,  that  she  is  forced  to  send  for  the  doctor,  to  make 
her  able  to  eat,  she  tells  him,  in  great  anger  at  Providence,  that* 
she  never  was  well  since  she  was  born,  and  that  she  envies  every 
beggar  that  she  sees  in  health. 

"  This  is  the  disquiet  life  of  Ctelia,  who  has  nothing  to  torment 
her,  but  her  own  spirit. 

"  If  you  would  inspire  her  with  a  Christian  humility,  you  need  do  - 
no  more  to  make  her  as  happy  as  any  person  in  the  world.  This 
virtue  would  make  her  tliankful  to  Gfod  for  half  so  much  health  as 
she  has  had,  and  help  her  to  enjoy  more  for  the  time  to  come. 
This  virtue  would  keep  off  tremblings  of  the  spWts,  and  loss  of 
appetite,  and  her  blood  would  need  nothing  else  to  sweeten  it."  — 
Laic's  Serious  Call. 


SYMPTOMS. 

It  is  seldom  that  we  meet  with  so  much  playful  satire,  enlisted  in 
the  cause  of  benevolence  and  virtue,  as  in  **  Thinks-I-to-Myself." 
For  the  benefit  of  those  who  have  not  read  the  work,  it  will  be  suf- 
ficient to  premise  that  the  narrator  and  chief  actor  is  persuaded  by 
hie  parents  to  pay  court  to  Miss  Twist,  a  rich  heiress  whose  father's 
estate  is  contiguous  to  his  own  paternal  domains ;  but  he  is  himself 
attached  to  Emily  Mandeville,  a  daughter  of  the  vicar.  He  is  sadly 
tormented  with  a  bumping  at  his  heart,  the  true  cause  of  which  he 
discovers  in  the  following  manner :  — 

«  One  day,  as  I  was  walking  in  the  garden  with  Miss  Mandeville 
and  the  females  of  the  family,  it  came  into  my  head  that  Emily 
would  like  to  have  a  beautiful  moss-rose  that  I  had  just  gathered : 
Thinks-I-to-mysdf,  Y\\  go  and  stick  it  in  her  bosom:  —  at  that  very- 
moment  1  had  such  an  extraordinary  seizure  of  the  bumping  at  my 
heart,  that  I  was  ready  to  drop ;  but  what  appeared  to  me  more 
strange  was,  that  I  covdd  not  go  to  her,  do  what  I  would  ;  for  the 
first  time  in  my  life,  I  felt  a  sort  of  dread  of  her.  While  Miss  Man- 
deville had  been  questioning  me  about  the  ball  at  Nicotium  Castle,  a 
little  before,  I  thought  she  looked  displeased  with  me ;  and  when  I 
expected  it  of  her  as  a  friend,  that  she  would  have  likJed  to  hear  of 
the  notice  that  had  been  taken  of  me,  I  observed  she  walked  quite 
away :  —  I  had  never  quarrelled  with  her  in  all  my  life,  nor  she 
with  me :  —  I  would  have  done  any  thing  to  have  served  her,  or 
pleased  her ;  and  now  that  I  felt  afraid  of  her,  I  still  seemed  to 
want  to  serve  her,  and  please  her  more  than  ever:  —  Hdnks-Lto- 
myself,  certainly  I  am  bewitched ;  —  soon  after,  she  came  up  to  us 
of"  her  own  accord :  Thinks- I-to-my self,  now  I'll  give  the  rose  ;  so  I 
went  to  her  with  it,  and  was  going  to  offer  it ;  but  my  tongue  sud- 
denly got  BO  perfectly  dry  in  my  mouth,  that  Fll  be  hanged  if  I 


20  THE    FAMILY    VISITOR. 

coflQiit  speak  a  word-  Thinks-1-to-myself,  I  am  certainly  going  to 
dfei  I  was  so  frightened,  I  got  away  as  soon  after  as  I  could ;  but 
the  bumping  continued  all  the  way  home,  woree,  I  think,  than  ever. 
1  was  afraid  to  tell  my  mother  of  it,  because  I  knew  she  would  send 
for  Mr.  Bolus,  and  that  always  ended  in  such  severe  and  long- 
continued  discipline,  generally  beginning  with  an  emetic,  which 
tore  me  to  pieces,  that  I  always  kept  my  maladies  to  myself  as  long 
as  I  could. 

'^Astnay  sister  was  just  come  home,  I  asked  her  about  it ;  but  she 
only  laughed  at  me,  though  I  could  not  tell  why :  I  got  into  my 
father's  librdry,  one  mornino*,  in  order  to  try  if  I  could  find  my  case 
in  any  of  the  physical  books  there,  of  which  he  had  a  store.  1 
looked  into  a  good  many,  just  running  over  the  symptoms  of  each, 
wliich  caught  my  eye,  as  being  in  capital  letters,  thus,  symptoms,  — 
and  it  is  past  all  conception  what  a  variety  of  diseases  I  seemed  to 
have  ;  tor  to  look  for  humping  only,  was  nothing  ;  the  more  I  read, 
tlie  more  symptoms  I  detected;  —  I  was  not  aware  of  a  hun- 
dredth part  of  what  I  suffered,  till  the  book  suggested  them ;  —  1 
plainly  saw  my  case  to  be  (at  least  I  thought  so  then)  a  compli- 
cation of  all  the  classes,  orders,  genera,  aucT species  of  disease,  that 
had  ever  afflicted  the  race  of  man.  As  I  went  along,  and  ques- 
tioned myself  as  to  the  several  symptoms  of  the  different  disorders  as  laid 
down  in  the  book,  I  found  I  had  not  only  bumpings,  but  dreadful  pains 
in  my  head  and  loins,  with  a  iveariness  of  limbs ;  stretching,  yawning, 
shivering,  and  sliaking,  which  are  pretty  plain  signs,  as  any  body  must 
allow,  ofHUaapproaching  fever ;  1  had  a  rigor,  or  chMiness,  pains  in 
my  hack,  dv^ulty  of  breathing.  I  had  a  violent  pricking  pain  in  one 
of  the  sides,  deep  down  among  my  ribs,  which  was  manifestly  a 
pleurisy  or  peripneumony,  1  could  not  exactly  discern  which ;  i 
had  violent ^usSing  in  thefcbce,  disturbed  sleep,  and  a  singing  in  my 
cars,  which  seemed  to  me  to  indicate  a  phrenitis :  I  had  a  painful 
tension  on  the  right  side  also,  just  opposite  the  pricking  pain  on  my 
left,  under  the  yatee  ribs,  which  1  knew  at  once  to  be  a  disordered 
liver :  in  short,  I  kept  looking  and  looking,  till  I  was  evidently  con- 
vinced that  I  had  not  a  sound  part  about  me  ;  and  I  should,  I  am 
persuaded,  have  taken  to  my  bed,  and  died,  to  the  great  joy  of  Mrs. 
Fidget,  if  it  had  not  been  that  I  rather  wished  to  die.  Ever  since 
Emily  Mandeville  had  looked  grave  at  me,  I  had  felt  as  bold  as  a 
lion  about  dying ;  and,  T will  venture  to  say,  could  have  resolutely 
walked  into  the  very  arms  of  old  Dry-bones  with  his  hour  glass,* 
had  I  but  met  him  any  where  in  my  walks. 

"  I  did,  however,  take  a  little  medicine,  by  advice  of  the  hooks, 
picked  up  here  and  there.  I  managed  to  buy  some  ipecacuanlia,  asafcet- 
ida,  Glauber's  salt,  and  compound  tincture  of  senna,  which,  mixing 
up  with  a  small  parcel  of  jalap,  and  some  soccotrine  aloes,  (not  very 
regularly,  I  confess,  for  I  knew  nothing  of  the  proper  proportions,) 
1  took  a  tea-spoonful  night  and  morning,  for  three  days,  which  so 
effectually  moved  my  stomach,  as  to  give  me,  as  I  thought,  the 
fairest  chance  of  a  perfect  recovery ;  however,  not  so  ;  I  could  not 
reach  the  bumping,  after  all,  which  occurred  so  instantaneously 
upon  the  smallest  recollection  of  Emily  Mandeville,  that,  had  she 

.* 


A    GOOD    SPECULATION.  21 

beeu  old  and  ugly,  or  had  she  ever  been  seen  in  the  air,  or  on  a 
broom,  it  must  have  convinced  me,  that  she  was  the  exact  person 
Uiat  had  bewitched  me.  I  continued  in  this  state  for  some  days 
afler  nay  sister's  return  home  ;  during  which  time  Miss  Twist  came 
ollen  to  see  her  in  her  carriage,  and  Emily Mandcville  once  on  foot: 
I  could  plainly  perceive,  that  though  the  latter  did  not  at  all  mind 
coming  on  foot,  the  former  was  very  proud  indeed  of  coming  in  her 
carriage  :  but  what  was  odd,  even  this  difference  between  the  two, 
as  soon  as  I  perceived  it,  brought  on  the  bumping  at  my  heart: 
Thinks-I-to-myself,  Emily  shall  ride  in  her  carriage  too. 

"  1  know  not  how  long  I  might  have  remained  in  this  miserable, 
uncertain  state,  had  it  not  been  for  the  most  unlooked-for  accident, 
that  ever  befell  one  in  my  sad  condition.  One  day  that  Miss  Twist 
had  dined  with  us,  she  and  my  sister,  in  the  evening,  were  playing 
and  singing  at  the  piano-forte.  They  both  sung  extremely  well, 
only  Miss  'fAvist  was  so  abominably  affected,  1  could  not  bear  to 
look  at  her  while  she  sung,  but  stood  at  a  distance,  generally,  listen- 
ing to  the  words.  Music  I  delighted  in ;  especially,  I  found,  since 
the  first  attack  of  my  bumping  —  there  were  some  tunes  so  exqui- 
sitely soothing  and  delightfiU,  I  could  scarce  bear  them ;  and  some 
of  the  words  of  the  songs  seemed  to  me  to  touch  my  complaint :  Miss 
Twist,  1  perceived,  had  a  particular  knack  in  fixing  upon  such  songs : 
at  last  there  came  one  tliat  completely  opened  my  poor,  dull  eyes ;  the 
two  first  verses  were  sufficient.  I  had  not  made  complete  experi- 
ment of  all,  —  but  my  eyes  were  opened,  as  I  say :  Thinks-I-to- 
myself,  "That's  enough:"  as  I  whispered  to  my  sister,  to  beg  her  to 
repeat  it,  I  could  not  help  marking  every  word,  the  second  time, 
and  accompanying  them  with  my  usual  soliloquies. 

"  When  Delia  on  the  plain  appears," 
sung  Miss  Twist :  —  Thinks-I-to-myself,  When  Emily  Mandeville 
wedks  in  the  garden, 

"  Awed  by  a  thousand  tender  fears, 
I  would  approach,  but  dare  not  move ; " 

7%inks-I-to-myself,  Symptoms  !  —  the  exact  case  to  a  hair !  tieve% 
was  any  thing  more  plain !  — 

"  Telkne,  my  heart,  if  tliis  be  love  !  " 
Yes,  imdoubtedly !     Neither  fever,  nor  pleurisy,  nor  peripneumony, 
nor  phrenilis,  nor  a  diseased  liver,  but  love  !  downright  love.     My 
eyes  were  opened  — I  saw." 


A  GOOD  SPECULATION. 

In  the  year  1682,  Sir  Henry  Blunt  died,  in  Hertfordshire,  at  the 
advanced  age  of  90.    It  is  related  of  this  gentleman,  that  he  trans- 


«    4^ 


22  THE    FAMILY    VISITOR. 

fSrred  his  estate,  with  the  inheritance,  producing  between  fotfr  and 
five  hundred  pounds  per  annum,  to  Sir.  John  Harpur,  of  Derbyshire, 
on  condition  that  he  shoukl  receive  an  aunuity  of  £1000  foi*  Hfe. 
The  temptation  on  the  part  of  the  latter  seems  to  have  Arisen 
from  the  character  of  Bkuit,  wlio  was  ardently  fond  of  travelling, 
and  not  less  so  of  tlie  bottle  —  two  propensities  which  promised  a 
speedy  and  profitable  termination  of  the  annual  payment.  Blunt, 
sensible  of  the  advantage  he  had  gained,  determined  to  lead  a  new 
life,  and  became  one  of  tlie  most  temperate  of  men,  and  actually 
received  £40,000  for  his  inheritance.  "  This,"  says  Langly  Curtiss, 
in  his  Mercury,  "  may  serve  for  advice  to  all  debauchees  to  become 
sober  and  temperate,  if  it  were  only  to  preserve  their  lives." 


CHILLING  POLITENESS. 

Without  entering  into  any  disquisition  as  to  the  rites  of  hospi- 
tality and  the  merits  of  social  duties,  we  shall  briefly  notice  what 
we  conceive  to  be  "  singularly  cold  civility  "  —  the  effects  of  which 
are  felt  by  the  suffering  party  long  after  their  exposure  to  it.  Large 
rooms  resei-ved  for  the  use  of  coinpany,  or  invited  guests,  are  often 
shut  up  for  many  days,  and  even  sometimes  for  weeks  together,  in 
damp  and  cold  weather.  These  are  opened,  and  a  fire  made  in 
them  an  hour  or  two  only  before  the  arrival  of  the  visitors,  who  afe 
allowed  by  this  means  to  sit  exposed,  at  first  to  the  chilling  air  of 
the  room,  and  subsequently  to  the  moisture  which  evaporates  from 
the  curtains,  carpeting,  and  chair  seats.  The  persons  thus  suffer- 
ing are  generally  clad  in  d  lighter  atthe  than  is  customary  with 
them ;  and,  if  they  do  not  actually  sliiver  under  their  reception,  we 
must  attribute  it  to  an  uncommon  effort  of  voUtion.  But  in  addi- 
tion to  these  dispensations  common  to  the  wliole  group,  there  is 
^ot  unfrequently  a  current  of  air,  rushing  in  with  force  enough  to 
turn  a  small  windmill,  through  the  crevice  or  opening  of  a  door,  or 
window,  which  strikes  against  the  neck  #r  back  of  some  timid 
maiden,  or  awkward  country  youth,  who  are  fearful  of  being  thought 
unpolite  by  changing  their  places,  and  obtaining  a  seat  nearer  the 
fire.  Dinner  is  at  length  served,  and  then,  by  the  doctrine  of  com- 
pensation, these  two  persons  are  allowed  to  sit  with  their  backs  to 
the  fire  during  the  repast,  to  make  room,  at  a  more  pleasant  part  of 
the  table,  for  their  seniors,  or  those  who  have  frankness  enough  to 
say  that  they  cannot  bear  the  fire ;  that  is,  tliey  cannot  bear  to  be 
roasted  —  for  politeness'  sake. 

Night  arrives,  and  the  hour  for  sleep  finds  the  favored  guest  in  a 
bed  which  has  been  for  weeks  a  bed  of  state,  and  between  sheets, 
which  are  so  damp  that  they  adhere  to  the  skin.  Perhaps  the 
room  had  been  washed  out  in  the  'morning,  in  order  to  be  in  nice 
trim,  and  as  an  evidence  of  still  greater  respect  to  the  visitor,  who, 


TUB   SISTERHOOD    OF    CHARITY.  ,  23 

in  addition  to  tlie  other  evidences  of  ciiilling  politeness,  receives 
the  cold,  damp  air  coming  from  the  floor  and  walls. 

Colds,  coughs,  and  consumptions,  are  often  the  effects  of  this 
kind  of  friendly  attentiBns,  which  are  succeeded  by  another  series, 
scarcely  less  distres'sing,  and  still  more  futaL  These  consist  in  the 
recommendation  of  sundry  cough  mixtures,  pulmonic  balsams,  and 
the  like.  Hence  a  person  has  a  poor  chance  of  escape,  uuder  the- 
kindness  of  those  friends,  of  whom  one  class  bring  on  the  disease, 
and  the  Other  kill,  while  promising  to  cure  it  —  Jowncd  of  Health, 


THE  SISTERHOOD  OF  CHARITY. 

"It  was  about  the  year  1629  that  the  foundation  of  the  establish- 
ment of  the  Sisterhood  of  Charity  was  laid  in  France,  by  the  pious 
exertions  of  Vincent  de  Paul,  a  priest  greatly  and  justly  celebrated 
for  his  uncommon  virtues  and  the  untiring  energy  of  his  character. 
He  was  tlie  founder  of  many  charitable  institutions,  particularly 
UHospict  des  Enfans  trouves*  Jle  is  canonized,  and  honored 
with  the  title  of  Saint  —  as  well  merited  in  this  instance  as  it  has 
l>een  misplaced  in  others.  All  the  print-shops  in  PaSfe'display  iull- 
length  portraits  of  Vincent  de  Paul ;  and  the  artist  has  gi^n  a  most 
speaking  eulogy  of  this  tndy  good  man.  Instead  of  being  repre- 
sented, like  most  of  his  brother  saints,  surrounded  by  the  absurd 
and  revolting  types  of  superstition,  he  is  placed  in  a  street  at  night, 
in  the  midst  of  a  winter  storm,  with  an  infant  clasped  to  his  breast, 
just  rescued  from  the  shroud  of  snow,  to  which  some  cruel  mother 
had  consigned  it,  and  smiling  in  the  face  of  its  preserver.  Such 
was  the  model  (so  unfrcquently  follo^ved)  for  Christian  ministers, 
and  to  whom  is  due  the  institution  of  '  Les  Sceurs  de  la  Charite.^ 

"Vincent  was  aided  in  his  fii-st  efforts  towards  this  holy  work  by  a 
Madame  Legras,  a  widowed  lady  of  illustrious  birth  and  large  tor-* 
tunc,  who  associated  herself  with  her.  pious  confessor ;  and  under 
their  joint  care  it  rapidlj^  acquired  consistence  and-  immense  suc- 
cess. The  congregation^  or  socictj',  of  '  Filles  de  lu  Cluiriti^  spread 
all  over  France,  and  was  divided  into  many  different  branches, 
under  various  titles ;  many  females  of  the  first  quality  joined  the 
association  ;  and  instances  of  virtue  truly  sublime  were  frequently 
displayed  by  almost  every  individual  "Sister"  to  whom  an  occasion 
presented  itself. 

"  For  nearly  two  centuries  this  admirable  institution  remained  un- 
disturbed, and  completely  identified  witli  France,  as  well  as  with 
the  nations  into  which  it  was  received  with  avidity.  But  in  1793 
even  the  Sceitrs  de  la  Charile  did  not  escape  the  general  ruin.  The 
society  was  destroyed  in  Pai-is ;  the  houses  and  property  of  the  in- 
stitution were  seized  and  confiscated,  the  sisterhood  dispersed  and 

■  •< 
*  The  FouiuUiiig  II<'<:i)iial. 


\ 


24  THE     FAMILY    VISITOR. 

persecuted,  aud  many  of  them  put  to  death.  The  wretched  rabble, 
in  their  fi-enzy,  destroyed  tlie  very  beings  who,  in  the  moment  of  tlieir 
worst  excess,  would  have  brought  them  succor  and  safety.  In  the 
provinces,  however,  the  Sceurs  were  respected ;  and  in  1801  the 
sagacity  of  Bonaparte,  tlien  enjoying  his  most  glorious  title,  first 
consul  of  tlie  republic,  reestablished  the  institution,  which  from 
that  day  has  become  more  flourishing,  more  extended,  and  more 
venerated  than  ever. 

"  The  duties  of  the  '  Sisterliood  of  Charity '  are  simple  in  their 
mere  mention.  They  are  confined  to  attending  the  poor  and  sick, 
administering  medicines,  nursing  them,  and  giving  them  the  con- 
solations of  religion.  But  the  details  of  such  duties,  put  in  practice, 
entail  a  varied  train  of  trials  and  sufferings.  A  fund  of  charity 
must  be  deeply  lodged  in  the  heart  of  the  female  that  enters  into  this 
order ;  aud  they  who  thus  devote  themselves  to  the  service  of  the 
wretched,  frequently  abandon,  in  doing  so,  all  the  enjoyments 
attached  to  tlie  possession  of  large  fortune  and  illustrious  birth. 
But  this  sacrifice  is  not  as  rare  as  might  be  imagined.  Voung  girls, 
reared  in  the  lap  of  pleasure,  and  destined  to  all  the  splendor  and 
luxuries  of  the  world,  often  voluntarily  renounce  them,  and  oflTer 
up  a  portion  of  the  best  years  of  their  existence  to  the  duties  of 
benevolence  and  charity.  We  often  see  them  flying  from  all  the 
seductions  of  a  worldly  life,  to  embrace,  with  ardor,  the  pious  obli- 
gations of  such  pursuits ;  and  that,  too,  without  having  been  excited 
to  it  by  the  too  frequent  causes  of  self-sacrifice  —  one  of  those  sud- 
den losses  which  so  cruelly  reveal  the  power  of  death,  or  of  those 
unlooked-for  changes  which  betray  the  inconstancy  of  passion. 

"They  go  through  a  novitiate  of  a  few  months,  and  the  period  of 
their  vows  is  only  for  one  year ;  but  many  continue  for  a  succes- 
sion of  years,  and  even  for  life.  They  can  possess  no  property,  nor 
enjoy  any  inheritance.  They  are  supported  and  lodged,  l)ut  their 
services  are  gratuitous.  They  are  guided  and  governed,  in  their 
general  administration,  by  a  code  of  instructions,  drawn  up  by  the 
liand  of  Vincent  de  Paul  himself.  Such  is  a  slight  outline  of  this 
sisterhood,  a  real  blessing  to  the  countries  where  it  exists,  and  an 
honor  to  human  nature."  —  Traits  of  Travel. 


THE  MYSTERY  REVEALED. 

A  famous  man  of  medicine,  so  famous  for  his  cures,  —  his  won- 
derful cures,  —  gave  out  some  years  before  his  decease,  that  he 
would  leave  a  book  in  manuscript,  which  should  contain  the  result 
of  all  his  practice  and  experience,  reading  and  learned  research  — 
the  same  to  be  sold  at  public  auction  for  the  benefit  of  his  widow 
and  children. 

In  the  course  of  nMure  he  died  before  his  wife  —  a  fortunate  cir- 
cumstance for  tlie  narrative.    According  to  directions,  all  the  facts 


BEAUTY    AND    HEALTH.  25 

in  this  "noticeable"  transaction  were  liyid  before  the  discerning 
public,  ill  the  newppapers,  and  the  time  for  the  auction  appointed. 
This  event  also  took  ptece,  as  exact  as  the  almanac  calculations,  and 
brought  wth  it  many  of  the  rich  and  tiie  leai-ned  Irom  distant 
nlaces.  The  auction  went  on  rapidly,  and  the  precious  treasure, 
raiely  wrajiped,  and  the  bandages  on  the  enveloi)e  duly  and  ofg- 
cially  sealed  with  bright,  glossy,  red  sealing-wax,  was  fairly  and 
finally  bonglit  In'  a  wealthy  nobleman,  who  was  nobly  determined 
to  keep  tiiis  valuable  and  desirable  book  of  medical  ex-])erieiice  in 
the  country.  When  all  the  ceremonies  of  cash  and  delivery  were 
duly  disposed  of,  he  retired  to  the  innermost  recess  of  his  ])alace  — 
his  very  private  cabinet  —  to  read,  with  dear-bought  delight,  this  pro- 
dtiction  of  wisdom.  He  broke  the  seals,  and  removed  many  a  fine- 
tintcd  wrapper,  until  he  came  to  a  book,  in  appearance,  very  suita- 
ble for  a  beautiful  young  lady's  album,  those  pretty  repertories  and 
depositories  of  love  and  nonsense  :  he  opened  the  delicate,  lily-white 
pages  with  gilt  edges,  "bound  in  gilt  calf,"  —  but  found  the  fair 
pages  not  yet  written  on ;  the  blank  yet  to  be  filled  —  like  the  heads 
of  many  young  men.  Still  he  had  courage  and  hope,  for  he  had 
paid  his  gold  for  wisdom ;  and  he  turned  over  the  pages  until  he 
came  to  the  following  words  —  words  deserving  to  be  written  in 
letters  like  those  over  the  principal  gate  of  Athens,  in  the  days  of 
lier  pride  and  glorj- — "Keep  the  J'eeff'dnj,  the  skin  clean,  the  head 
cool,  the  digestion  regular,  and  a  Jig  for  the.  Doctors."  Here  was 
tlie  quiiitessence  of  medical  wisdom,  rectified  from  the  grosser  par- 
ticles of  dry  and  learned  dust  —  reduced  and  simplified  to  its  lowest 
possible  terms,  like  the  Chinese  emperor's  library,  from  one  hun- 
di-ed  and  fifiy  thousand  volumes  of  manuscripts,  to  one  plain  palm- 
leaf  of  wisdom  and  learning. —  Journal  of  Hecdth. 


BEAUTY  AND  HEALTH. 

"  Females  should  be  early  taught  the  important  fact,  that  beauty 
cannot,  in  reality,  exist  independent  of  health  ;  and  that  the  one  is 
absolutely  unattainable  by  any  practice  inconsistent  with  the  other. 
In  vain  do  they  hope  to  improve  tiieir  skin,  to  give  a  'roseate 
hue' to  their  cheeks,  or  to  augment  the  grace  and  symmetrj"  of 
their  forms,  unless  they  are  cautious  to  preser\'e  the  whole  frame  in 
healrii,  vigor  and  activity.  Beauty  of  complexion,  and,  to  a  certain 
extent,  that  of  shape  also,  is  nothing  more  than  visible  health — a 
pure  mirror  of  the  perfect  performance  of  the  internal  functions, 
and  of  tlieir  harmony  with  the  external  portions  of  the  system ;  the 
certain  effects  of  pure  air,  choej:fulnes9,  temperance,  and  of  exercise 
iminterrupted  by  any  species  of  unnatural  constraint." 
3 


26 


THE     FAMILY     VISITOR. 


CHINESE  WOMEN. 


Females  in  Cliiiia  do  not  hold  that  rank,  or  enjoy  those  privileges, 
which,  in  more  cultivated  nations,  are  conceived  to  be  their  (^e. 
The  Chinese  women  are  generally  very  ignorant,  their  instructions 
being  principally  in  domestic  affairs.  A  learned  lady  is  so  uncom- 
mon, that  her  attaimuents  are  a  tlieme  of  admiration ;  she  is  immor- 
talized in  odes,  and  her  fair  resemblance  magnificently  illuminated 
on  fans,  screens,  &c.,  lor  the  admiration  of  posterity.  The  poorer 
classes  are  engaged  in  various  menial  offices,  while  those  of  rank 
emjiloy  their  time  in  music,  smoking,  and  other  accomplishments.  A 
lady  of  fashion  is,  of  course,  supposed  guiltless  of  any  manual  labor, 
and,  consequently,  the  nails  are  permitted  to  acquire  an  enormous 
length,  particularly  that  of  the  little  finger.  These  ladies'  smoke 
inuoh,  and  their  pipes,  usually  formed  of  slender  bamboos,  the 
bowl  of  silver  or  white  copper,  and  mouth-piece  of  amber  or  val- 
uable stone,  are  in  many  instances  singulai-ly  elegant.  The  pieces 
of  bamboo  used  for  the  stems  are  valuable  according  to  the  regu- 
larity and  beauty  of  the  wood,  the  evenness  of  the  joints,  and  clear- 
ness of  the  bore.  For  those  in  which  these  various  excellences  are 
in  great  perfection,  high  prices  are  given. 

Music  is  a/avorite  recreation,  and  guitars  of  various  kinds,  with 
other  musical  instruments  of  extraordinary  shape  and  tone,  are  in- 
dispensable appurtenances  to  the  boudoir  of  a  Chinese  belle.  In 
such  trifling  employments,  the  life  of  these  imprisoned  beauties 
glides  away  with  little  variation,  while  that  of  the  lower  classes  is 
one  perpetual  scene  of  labor  and  exposure.  They  perform  not  only 
all  those  offices  which  are  assigned  to  them  in  other  countries,  but 
on  them  and  their  children  principally  devolves  the  task  of  naviga- 
ting the  multitudes  of  small  boats  which  cover  the  Chinese  rivers. 
They  are  the  moving  power  of  these  floating  houses,  for  such  in 
fact  they  are ;  born  and  dying  in  them,  never  living  on  shore,  and 
possessing  nothing  but  their  boats  and  the  contents.  The  women, 
from  the  continual  exposure  to  sun  and  wind,  become  very  dark, 
lose  all  that  soft  listlessness  of  expression,  and  delicacy  of  form,  for 
which  the  higher  classes  arc  distinguished,  and  resemble  in  their 
exterior  another  people.  They  acquire  masculine  strength  and 
manners,  and  from  early  habit  become  perfectly  inured  to  the 
laborious  occupation  of  rowing  or  sculling  the  heavy  boats  in 
which  they  live. 

Women  of  the  poorer  classes  show  themselves  without  the  least 
reserve  in  all  public  places;  but  no  female,  whose  means  permit  it, 
ever  goes  abroad  except  in  a  palanquin  or  sedan  chair,  most  of 
which  are  furnished  with  curtains,  which  effectually  conceal  the 
occupant.  In  fact,  so  few  of  the  Chinese  women  have  any  preten- 
sions to  personal  beauty,  according  to  our  idea  of  it,  and  those  who 
have  are  so  covered  with  paint,  that,  farther  than  as  objects  of  curi- 
osity, they  have  lew  attractions  tor  a  foreign  eye.  The  hair  is 
always  remarkably  neat,  generally  very  long  and  abundant,  and 


CmNESE    WOMEN'.  27 

dressed  in  a  most  elaborate  manner,  ornamented  ^ith  goldw  silver 
botlkins,  and  flowers,  such  as  tlie  Indiuu  jasmine,  whichare  deligljt- 
fully  fragrant,  and  disposed  with  much  taste  and  etiect.  ^ 

'I'hose  who  are  blessed  with  the  celebrated  small  leet  invariably 
ouinuik  the  other  females  of  the  family,  who  are  unhappy  enough 
to  have  their  extremities  flourishing  in  a  state  of  natuie.  The  cus; 
tom  of  compressing  the  feet,  which  has  so  long  been  supposed  to 
originate  in  the  je.ilousy  of  Chinese  husbands,  is,  in  reality,  but  in 
imitation  of  a  certain  queen  of  China,  wiio,  Tjeingordered  to  bind 
up  her  tect  in  the  smallest  possible  compass,  to  please  the  fancy  ot 
her  lord,  was,  of  course,  immediately  imitated  by  the  ladies  of  her-  , 
court ;  and  it  thus  became  a  standing  custom. 

The  excess  to  which  the  compression  is  carried  by  many  is  per- 
fectly wonderful.  Some  of  the  females  are  so  mutilated  by  this 
horrid  custonf  as  to  be  unable  to  walk  any  considerable  distance  ; 
and  when  compelled  to  make  the  effort,  which  is  painful  and  diffi- 
cult, they  find  a  stick,  or  the  slioulder  of  a  servant  maid,  a  neces- 
Bairy  support. 

The  revulsion  of  blood  to  the  feet,  when  the  bandages,*  which 
confine  the  limb,  are  removed,  is  said  to  be  perfectly  insupportable ; 
and  no  less  painful  is  the  unnatural  confinement  of  the  grcvnng 
limbs  of  young  children,  who  suffer  this  inhuman  torture  lor  the 
sake  of  fashion.  W6  are  informed,  that  it  is  necessary  to  watch 
them  closely  during  growth,  as  the  pain  they  endure  from  the  ban- 
dages frequently  induces  them,  when  unobserved,  to  tear  them  oflj 
in  order  to  obtiun  relief!  A  sister  who  possesses  a  pair  of  these  mis- 
erable-looking feet,  enjoys,  as  we  have  observed  above,  a  higher  rank 
in  the  family,  in  consideration  of  such  insignia  of  fashionable  pre- 
eminence. The  effect  of  the  process  is  found  to  be  a  premature 
appciUTince  of  age,  and  decrepitude,  which  is  materially  aided  by 
mai'riage,  contracted  at  a  very  early  age.  Those  whose  feet  ha\e 
not  been  subjected  to  this  operation,  are  observed  to  fail  sooner,  it 
is  true,  than  the  females  of  temperate  climates,  but  preserve  their 
youthful  afTpearance  long  after  the  charms  of  their  envied  compan- 
ions are  faded. 

The  size  of  these  curious  feet  varies  from  four  inches  to  the  usual 
length  of  the  finnalc  foot,  as  in  some,  from  carelessness,  they  have 
no  impediment  [(resented  to  their  growing  in  length,  and  are  only 
very  much  compressed.  Those  on  which  the  bandaging  has  been 
carefully  performed,  are  scarcely  any  longer  than  when  first  con- 
fineiL  Tlie  toes  are  turned  under  the  sole,  and  the  point  of  the 
foot  is  terminated  by  the  great  toe,  which  alone  preserves  a  resem- 
blance to  tlie  original  form. 

Numbers  of  poor  women,  who  have  been  reduced  in  circiim- 

umces,  are  hourly  observed  in  the  streets,  lamed  and  tormented  by 

tiiese  only  remaining  badges  of  their  former  rank,  and  many  of  them 

*  The  talcs  of  iron  shoes  being  employed  in  compressing  the  feet,  are  mere 
fiction.  Bandages,  very  similar  to  lliose  of  surgeons,  arc  the  only  means  used  for 
the  purpose. 


28  THE    FAMILY    VISITOR, 

scarcely  covered,  and  all  suffering  from  the  accumulated  miseries 
of  want  and  deformity. 

We  have  heard  Chinese  fathers  speak  of  this  custom  in  terms  of 
reprehension,  but  ui-ged  tlie  j>re valence  of  the  custom,  and  the  ridi- 
cule to  whicli  those  who  neglect  it  are  exposed,  as  an  excuse  for  its 
continuance.  —  Woo(ffs  Skdclies  of  Chiiiti. 


ONE  EFFECT  OF  STEAM. 

The  Liverpool  and  Manchester  steam  coaches  have,  we  arc  told, 
driven  fourteen  horse  coaches  off  the  road.  Each  of  the  horse 
coaches  employed  twelve  horses  —  there  being  three  stages,  and  a 
change  of  four  horses  each  stage.  The  total  horses  employed  by 
these  coaches  was,  therefore,  168.  Now,  each  horse  consumes,  on 
an  average,  in  pasture,  hay,  and  coni,  annually,  the  produce  of  one 
and  a  half  acres ;  the  whole  would  thus  consume  the  produce  of 
252  acres.  Suppose,  therefore,  "  eveiy  man  had  his  acre,"  upon 
which  to  rear  his  family,  which  some  politicians  deem  sufficient,  the 
maintenance  of  252  families  is  gained  to  the  country  by  these  steam 
coaches.  The  average  number  of  persons  in  a  family  is  six,  that  is, 
four  children,  and  father  and  mother.  The  subsistence  of  1512  in- 
dividuals is  thus  attained. 


RELIGION  FAVORABLE  TO  HEALTH. 

The  late  Dr.  Rush  has  remarked,  that  the  different  religions  of 
the  world,  by  the  activity  they  excite  in  the  mind,  have  a  sensible 
influence  upon  human  life.  Atheism  is  the  worst  of  sedatives  to 
the  understanding  and  passions.  It  is  the  abstraction  of  thought 
from  the  most  sublime,  and  of  love  fi-om  the  most  perfect,  of  all  pos- 
sible objects.  Man  is  as  naturally  a  religious  as  he  is  a  social  and 
domestic  animal;  and  the  same  violence  is  done  to  his  mental 
faculties  by  robbing  him  of  a  belief  in  God,  that  is  done  by  dooming 
him  to  live  in  a  cell,  deprived  of  the  objects  and  pleasures  of"  social 
and  domestic  life.  The  necessary  and  imnuitable  connection  be- 
tween the  texture  of  the  human  mind,  and  the  worship  of  an  olyect 
of  some  kind,  was,  some  forty  years  since,  fully  demonstrated  by 
the  atheists  of  Europe  ;  who,  after  rejecting  the  true  God,  instituted 
the  worship  of  Nature,  of  Fortune,  and  of  Human  Reason,  and,  in 
some  instances,  with  ceremonies  of  the  most  expensive  and  splen- 
did kind.  Religions  are  friendly  to  health  and  life,  in  pro})ortion  as 
they  elevate  the  understanding,  and  act  upon  the  passions  of  hope 
and  love.     It  will  readily  occur  to  every  one,  that  Christianity,  when 


A    M.V.'    i.r'.CLAND    SKETCH.  29* 

believed  luul  obeyed  according  to  its  original  consistency  with  itselij 
and  with  tlie  divine  attributes,  is  more  calculated  to  produce  tliose 
eflects  than  any  other  religion  in  the  world.  Such  is  the  salutary 
operation  of  its  doctrines  and  precepts  upon  health  and  Hfe,  that,  it" 
its  divine  authority  i-ested  ujwn  no  other  argument,  this  alone  would 
be  sufficient  to  recommend  it  to  our  belief.  How  long  mankind 
may  continue  to  prefer  substituted  pursuits  and  pleasures  to  this 
invigorating  stimulus,  is  uncertaui ;  but  the  time,  we  are  assured, 
will  come,  when  the  understanduig  shall  be  elevated  from  its  pres- 
ent inferior  objects,  and  the  luxated  passions  be  reduced  to  their* 
original  order.  This  change  m  the  mind  of  man  can  be  effected 
only  by  the  influence  of  the  Christian  religion,  after  all  the  eflbrts 
of  human  reason  to  produce  it  solely  by  means  of  civilization, 
philosophy,  liberty,  and  government,  have  been  exhausted  to  no 
purpose. 


A  NEW  ENGLAND  SKETCH. 

Did  you  ever  see  the  little  village  of  Newbury,  in  Connecticut  ? 
I  dai'e  say  you  never  did  ;  for  it  was  just  one  of  those  out-of-the-way 
places  where  nobody  ever  came,  unless  they  came  on  purpose,  —  a 
green,  little  hollow,  wedged,  like  a  bird's  nes^  between  half  a  dozen 
high-  hills,  that  kept  off  the  wind,  and  kept  out  foreigners ;  so  that 
the  little  place  was  as  stiictly  "  sui  generis,"  as  if  there  were  not 
another  in  the  world.  The  inhabitants  were  all  of  that  respectable, 
old,  standfast  family,  who  make  it  a  point  to  be  born,  bred,  married, 
die,  and  be  buried,  all  in  the  self-same  sjiot.  There  were  just  so 
many  houses,  and  just  so  many  people  lived  in  them ;  and  nobody 
ever  seemed  to  be  sick,  or  to  die  either,  at  least  while  I  was  there. 
The  natives  grew  old,  till  they  could  not  grow  04^-,  and  then  they 
stood  still,  and  lasted  from  generation  to  generation.  There  was,  too, 
an  unchangeability  about  all  the  externals  of  Newbury.  Here  was 
a  red  house,  and  there  was  a  brown  house,  and  across  the  way  was 
a  yellow  hoisse ;  and  there  was  a  straggling  rail  fence,  or  a  tribe  of 
mullein  stalks  between.  The  parson  lived  here,  and  Squire  Moses 
lived  there,  and  Deacon  Hart  lived  under  the  hill,  and  Messrs.  Nadab 
and  Abihu  Peters  lived  by  the  cros-s  road,  and  the  old  "Widdor" 
Smith  lived  by  the  meeting-house,  and  Ebenezer  Camp  kept  a  shoe- 
maker's shop  on  one  side,  and  Patience  Mosely  kept  a  milliner's 
shop  in  front ;  and  there  was  old  Comfort  Seran,  who  kept  store  for 
the  whole  town,  and  sold  axe-heads,  brass  thimbles,  liquorice  ball, 
fancy  handkerchiefs,  and  every  thing  else  you  can  think  of.  Here, 
too,  was  the  general  post-office,  where  you  might  see  letters  mar- 
vellously folded,  directed  wrong  side  upward,  stamped  with  a  thim- 
ble, and  superscribed  to  some  of  the  Dollys,  or  Pollys,  or  Peters,  or 
Moseses,  aforenamed,  or  not  named.  For  the  rest,  as  to  manners, 
morals,  arts,  and  sciences,  the  people  in  Newbury  always  went  to 
their  parties  at  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  and  came  home  before 
3* 


30  THE    FAMILY    VISITOR. 

f 

dark;  always  stopped  all  work. the  minute  the  sun  was  do\vn  on 
Saturday  night ;  always  went  to  meeting  on  Sunday ;  had  a  school- 
house  with  all  the  ordinaiy  inconveniences,  were  in  neighhorJy 
charity  with  each  other,  read  tlieir  Bibles,  feared  their  God,  and 
were  content  with  such  things  as  they  had,  —  the  best  philosophy, 
after  all.  Such  was  the  place  into  which  master  James  Benton 
made  an  irruption,  in  the  year  eighteen  hundred  and  no  matter  what. 
Now,  this  James  is  to  be  the  hero,  and  he  is  just  the  hero  for  a  sen- 
sation ;  at  least,  so  you  would  have  thought,  if  you  had  been  m 
Newbury  the  week  after  his  arrival.  Master  James  was  one  of  those 
whole-heai'ted,  energetic  Yankees,  who  rise  in  the  world  as  natu- 
rally as  cork  does  in  the  water.  He  possessed  a  great  share  of  ^tliat 
characteristic  national  trait,  so  happily  denominated  "cuteness" 
which  signifies  an  ability  to  do  eveiy  thing  without  trying,  and  to 
know  every  thing  without  learning,  and  to  make  more  use  of  one's 
ignorance  than  other  people  do  of  their  knowledge.  This  quality  in 
James  was  mingled  with  an  elasticity  of  animal  spirits,  a  buoyant 
cheerfulness  of  mind,  wliich,  though  foimd  in  the  New  England 
character  perhaps  as  often  as  any  where  else,  is  not  ordinarily  re- 
garded as  one  of  its  distinguishing  traits. 

As  to  the  personal  appearance  of  our  hero,  we  have  not  much  to 
say  of  it  —  not  half  so  much  as  the  girls  in  Newbury  found  it  ne- 
cessary to  remark,  the  fii-st  Sabbath  that  he  shone  out  in  the  meeting- 
house. There  was  a  saucy  frankness  of  countenance,  a  knowing 
roguery  of  eye,  a  joviality  and  prankishness  of  demeanor,  that  was 
wonderfully  captivating,  especially  to  the  ladies. 

It  is  true  that  Master  James  had  an  uncommonly  comfortable 
opinion  of  himself —  a  full  faith  that  tiiere  was  nothmg  in  creation 
that  he  could  not  learn,  and  could  not  do  — and  this  faith  was  main- 
tained with  an  abounding  and  triumphant  joyfulness,  that  fairly  car- 
ried your  sympathies  along  with  him,  and  made  you  feel  quite  as 
muoh  delighted  witl^iis  qualifications  and  prospects  as  he  felt  him- 
self. There  are  g|Biinds  of  self-sufficiency ;  one  is  amusing,  the 
other  is  provokinj^  His  was  the  amusing  kind.  It  seemed  in  truth 
to  be  only  the  buoyancy  and  overflow  of  a  vivacious  mind,  delight- 
ed with  every  thing  tliat  is  delightful  in  himself  or  others.  He  was 
always  ready  to  magnify  his  own  praise,  but  quite  as  ready  to  exalt 
his  neighbor,  if  the  channel  of  discourse  ran  that  way.  His  own 
perfections  being  more  completely  within  his  knowledge,  he  re- 
joiced in  them  more  constantly ;  but  if  those  of  any  one  else  came 
within  the  same  range,  he  was  quite  as  much  astonished  and  edified 
as  if  they  had  been  his  own. 

Master  James,  at  the  time  of  his  transit  to  the  town  of  Newbury, 
was  only  eighteen  years  of  age,  so  that  it  was  difficult  to  say  which 
predominated  in  him  most  —  the  boy  or  the  man.  The  belief  that 
he  could,  and  the  determination  that  he  would,  be  something  in  the 
world,  had  caused  him  to  abandon  his  home,  and  with  all  his  world- 
ly eftects  tied  in  a  blue  cotton  pocket-handkerchief,  to  proceed  to 
seek  his  fortune  in  Newbury.  And  never  did  stranger,  in  Yankee 
village,  rise  to  promotion  with  more  unparalleled  rapidity,  or  boast 
a  greater  plurality  of  employment    He  figured  as  schoolmaster  all 


A    NEW*  ENGLAND  SKETCH.  31 

*  '  « 

the  week,  and  as  chorister  on  Sundays,  and  taughreiugiug  and  read- 
iug  in  the  evenings,  besides  studying  Latin  and  Greek  —  nobody 
knew  wlien  —  with  the  minister;  thus  titting  lor  college,  wliile  he 
seemed  to  be  doing  every  thing  else  in  the  world  besides. 

James  understood  eveiy  art  and  crat\  of  popularity,  and  made 
himself  mightily  at  home  in  all  the  region  round  about ;  knew  thQ 
geogru])hy  of  every  body's  cider  barrel  and  apple  bin  —  helping 
himself  and  every  one  else  therefrom  with  all   bountifulness ;    re- 
joicing in  the  good  things  of  this  life,  devouring  the   old  ladies'  jk 
dough-nuts  and  pumpkin  pies  with  most  flattering  appetite,  and  ap-^ 
jjearing  equally  to  relish  eve^'y  body  and  thing  that  came  in  his'^ 
way. 

The  degree  and  versatility  of  his  acquirements  were  truly  won- 
derful. He  knew  all  about  arithmetic  and  histoiy,  and  all  about 
catching  squirrels  and  planting  corn  ;  made  poetry  and  hoe-handles 
with  equal  celerity ;  wound  yarn  and  took  out  grease-spots  for  old 
ladies,  and  made  nosegays  and  knick-knacks  for  yomig  ones  ;  caught 
trout  Saturday  afternoons  and  discussed  doctrines  on  Sundays  with 
equal  adroitness  and  efl'ect.  In  short,  Mr.  James  moved  on  through 
the  place 

"  Victorious, 
Happy  euid  glorious,'' 

welcomed  and  privileged  by  every  body  in  every  place ;  and  when 
he  had  told  his  last  ghost  story,  and  fairly  flourished  himself  out  of 
doors,  at  the  close  of  a  long  winter's  evening,  you  might  see  the 
h}U"d  face  of  the  good  man  of  the  house,  still  phosphorescent  with 
his  departing  radiance,  and  hear  him  exclaim,  in  a  paroxysm  of  ad- 
mu-ation,  that  "  Jemes's  talk  re'ely  did  beat  all  — that  he  was  sarten- 
^y  a  most  miraculous  cre'tur ! " 

It  was  wonderfully  contrary  to  the  buoyant  activity  of  blaster 
•James's  mind,  to  keep  a  school.  He  had,  moreover,  so  much  of  the 
boy  ^^ld  the  rogue  in  his  composition,  that  he  could  not  be  strict 
with  the  iniquities  of  the  curly  j)ates  under  his  charge  ;  and  when 
he  saw  how  detcrminately  every  little  heart  was  boiling  over  with 
miscliief  and  motion,  he  felt  in  his  soul  more  disi)osed  to  join  in  and 
help  them  to  a  regular  frolic,  that  to  lay  justice  to  the  line  as  was 
meet.  This  would  have  made  a  sad  case,  had  it  not  been  that  the 
activity  of  the  master's  mind  connnunicated  itself  to  his  charge, 
just  as  the  reaction  of  one  brisk  little  spring  will  fill  a  manufactory 
with  motion  ;  so  that  there  was  more  of  an  impulse  towards  study 
in  the  golden,  good-natured  day  of  James  Benton,  than  in  the  time 
of  all  tiiat  went  before  or  came  after  him. 

But  when  "  school  was  out,"  James's  spirits  foamed  over  as  natu- 
rally as  a  tumbler  of  soda-water,  and  he  could  jump  over  benches, 
and  burst  out  of  dows,  with  as  much  rapture  as  the  veriest  little  elf 
in  his  company.  Then  you  might  have  seen  him  stepping  home- 
ward with  a  most  felicitous  expression  of  countenance,  occasionally 
reaching  his  hand  through  the  fence  for  a  bunch  of  currants,  or  over 
it  after  a  sun-flower,  or  bursting  into  some  back  yard  to  helj)  an  old 
lady  empty  her  wash-tub,  or  stopping  to  pay  his  devoirs  to  aunt  this, 


6.Z  TUE    I'AMILY    VISITOil. 

or  mistress  that  Jt  for  James  well  knew  the  importance  of  tlie 
"  powers  thai  be,"  and  always  kept  the  sumiy  side  of  the  old  ladies. 

We  shall  not  answer  for  James's  general  flirtations,  which  wei*e 
sundry  and  manifold ;  for  he  had  just  the  kindly  heart  that  fell  in 
love  with  every  thing  in  feminine  shape  that  came  in  his  way ;  and. 
if  he  had  not  been  blessed  with  an  equal  faculty  for  falling  out 
again,  we  do  not  know  what  ever  would  have  become  of  him.  But 
at  length  he  came  into  an  abiding  captivity,  and  it  is  quite  time  that 
he  should;  for,  having  devoted  thus  much  space  to  the  illustration 
;  of  our  hero,  it  is  fit  we  should  do  something  in  behalf  of  our  hero- 
ine ;  and  therefore  we  must  beg  the  reader's  attention,  while  we 
di-aw  a  diagram  or  two  that  will  assist  him  in  gainuig  a  right  idea 
of  her. 

Do  you  see  yondet  brown  house,  with  its  broad  roof  sloping 
almost  to  the  ground  on  one  side,  and  a  great,  unsuppoited  sun- 
bonnet  of  piazzi  shooting  out  over  the  front  door  ?  You  must  often 
have  noticed  it ;  you  have  seen  its  tall  sweep  relieved  against  the 
clear  evening  skj',  or  observed  the  feather  beds  and  bolsters  loung- 
ing out  of  its  chamber  windows  on  a  still  summer  morning ;  you 
recollect  its  gate,  that  swung  with  a  chain  and  a  great  stone  ;  its  pan- 
tiy  window,  latticed  with  little  brown  slabs,  and  looking  out  upoii  a 
forest  of  bean-poles;  you  remember  the  zephyrs  that  used  to  play 
among  its  pea-brush,  and  shake  the  long  tassels  of  its  corn-patch,  and 
how  vainly  any  zephyr  might  essay  to  perform  similar  flirtations  with 
the  considerate  cabbages  that  were  solemnly  vegetating  near  by. 
Then  there  was  the  whole  neighborhood  of  purple-leaved  beets,  and 
feathery  carrots,  and  parsnips;  there  were  the  billows  of  gooseberry- 
bushes  rolled  up  by  the  fence,  interspersed  with  rows  of  quince 
trees;  and  fai'offin  one  corner  was  one  little  patch,  penuriously  de- 
voted to  ornament,  which  flamed  with  marigolds,  poppies,  snappers, 
and  four-o'clocks.  Then  there  was  a  little  box  by  itself,  with  one  rose- 
geranium  in  it,  which  seemed  to  look  around  the  garden  as  much  like 
a  stranger  as  a  French  dancing  master  in  a  Yankee  meeting-house. 

That  is  the  dwelling  of  uncle  Timothy  Griswold.  Uncle  Tim,  as 
he  was  commonly  called,  had  a  character  that  a  painter  would  sketch 
for  its  lights  and  contrasts,  rather  than  its  symmetry.  He  was  a 
chestnut  bur,  abounding  with  briers  without,  and  with  substantial 
goodness  within.  lie  had  the  strong-grained  practical  sense,  the 
calculating  worldly  wisdom,  of  his  class  of  people  in  New  England. 
He  had,  too,  a  kindly  heart,  but  the  whole  strata  of  his  character  was 
crossed  by  a  vein  of  surly  petulance,  that,  half  way  between  joke 
and  earnest,  colored  every  thing  that  he  said  and  did. 

If  you  asked  a  favor  of  Uncle  Tim,  he  generally  kept  you  arguing 
half  an  hour,  to  prove  that  you  really  needed  it,  and  to  tell  you  that 
he  could  not  all  the  while  be  doubled  with  helping  one  body  or  an- 
other, all  which  time  you  might  observe  him  regularly  making  his 
preparations  to  grant  your  request,  and  see,  by  an  odd  glimmer  of 
ills  eye,  that  he  was  preparing  to  let  you  hear  the  "conclusion  of  the 
whole  matter  ; "  which  was, "  Well  —  well  —  I  guess  —  I'll  go,  on  the 
hull  —  I  'spose  I  must  at  least"  —  so  off  he  would  go  and  work 
while  the  day  lasted,  and  then  wind  up  with  a  farewell  exhortation, 


A    NEW   ENGLAND    SKETCH.  33 

"not  to  be  a'  callin'  on  your  neighbors,  when  y<Hr  could  get  alon^ 
without  it."  If  any  of  Uncle  Tim's  neighbors  were  in  any  trouble, 
he  was  always  at  hand  to  tell  them  "  that  they  shouldn't  a'  done  so ; " 
that  "  it  was  strange  they  couldn't  had  more  sense ; "  and  then  to  close 
his  exliortations  by  laboring  more  tliligently  tlian  any  to  bring  them 
out  of  their  ditliculties,  groauiihg  in  spirit,  meanwhile,  that  folks 
would  make  people  so  much  trouble. 

"  Uncle  Tim,  lather  wants  to  know  if  you  \vill  lend  hira  your  hoe 
to-day  ?  "  says  a  little  boy,  making  his  way  across  a  cornfield. 

"  Why  don't  your  father  use  his  own  hoe  ?  " 

"Our'n  is  broke." 

*  Broke  !     How  came  it  broke  ?  " 

"  I  broke  it,  yesterday,  ti-jing  to  hit  a  squirrel." 

"  What  business  had  you  to  be  hittiu'  squirrels  with  a  hoe  ?  Say." 

"  But  father  wants  to  boiTow  yoiu-s."  A 

"  Why  don't  he  have  that  mended  ?  It's  a  great -pester  to  have 
ever\-  body  usm'  a  body's  things."  • 

"  Well,  I  can  borrow  one  somewhere  else,  I  suppose,"  says  the 
suppliant.  After  the  boy  has  stfimibled  across  the  ploughed  ground, 
and  is  fairly  over  the  fence.  Uncle  Tim  calls, 

"  Halloo,  there,  you  little  rascal !  What  you  goin'  off  without  the 
hoe  for  ?  " 

"  I  didn't  know  as  you  meant  to  lend  it." 

"I  didn't  say  I  wouldn't,  did  I?  Here,  come  and  take  it  —  stay 
—  I'll  bring  it ;  and  do  you  tell  your  father  not  to  be  a'  lettin'  you 
hunt  squirrels  with  his  hoes  next  time." 

Uncle  Tim's  household  consisted  of  Aunt  Sally  his  wife,  and  an* 
only  son  and  daughter.  The  former,  at  the  time  our  story  begins, 
was  at  a  neighboring  literary  institution.  Aunt  Sally  was  precisely 
as  clever,  as  easy  to  be  entreated,  and  kindly  in  externals,  as  her 
help-mate  was  the  reverse.  She  was  one  of  those  respectable, 
pleasant  old  ladies,  whom  you  might  often  have  met  on  the  way  to 
church  on  a  Smiday,  equipped  with  a  great  fan,  and  a  jisalm-book, 
and  carrying  some  dried  orange-peel,  or  a  stalk  of  fennel,  to  give  to 
the  children,  if  they  were  sleepy  in  meeting.  -' 

She  was  as  clieerful  and  domestic  as  the  tea-kettle  that  sung  by 
her  kitchen  fire,  and  slipped  along  among  Uncle  Tim's  angles  and 
peculiarities,  as  if  there  never  was  any  thing  the  matter  in  the 
world ;  and  the  same  mantle  of  sunshine  seemed  to  have  fallen  on 
Miss  Grace,  her  only  daughter. 

Pretty  in  her  person,  and  pleasant  in  her  ways,  endowed  with  na- 
tive self-possession  and  address,  lively  and  chatty,  having  a  mind  and 
will  of  her  own,  yet  good-humored  withal.  Miss  Grace  wns  a  uni- 
versal favorite.  It  would  have  puzzled  a  city  lady  to  understand 
liow  Grace,  who  was  never  out  of  Newbury  in  her  life,  knew  the 
way  to  speak,  and  act,  and  behave,  on  all  occasions,  exactly  as  if  she 
had  l>een  taught  how.  She  was  just  one  of  those  wild  flowers,  which 
you  sometimes  may  see  waving  its  little  head  in  the  woods,  and 
looking  so  civilized  and  garden-like,  that  you  wonder  if  it  really  did 
come  up  and  grow  there  by  nature.  She  was  an  adept  in  all  house- 
hold concerns;  and  there  was  something  so  amazingly  pretty  in  her 


#• 


# 


34  THE    FAMILY    VISITOR. 

energetic  way  of  bustling  about,  and  "  putting  things  to  rights." 
Like  most  Yankee  damsels,  she  had  a  longing  after  the  tree  of  knowl- 
edge, and  having  exhausted  the  literju-y  fountains  of  a  district  school, 
siie  tell  to  reading  whatsoever  came  in  her  way.  True,  she  had  but 
little  to  read,  but  what  she  perused  sjjp  liad  her  own  thoughts  upon, 
so  that  a  person  of  information,  in  talking  with  her,  would  feel  a 
constcmt  wondering  pleasure,  to  find  that  siie  had  so  much  more  to 
say  of  this,  and  that,  and  the  other  thing,  than  he  expected. 

Uncle  Tim,  like  every  one  else,  felt  the  magical  brightness  of  his 
daugiiter,  and  was  delighted  with  her  praises,  as  might  be  discerned 
by  his  often  finding  occasion  to  remark,  that  he  "didn't  see  why  tlie 
boys  need  to  be  all  the  time  a'  coming  to  see  Grace  —  for  she  was 
nothing  extror'nary,  after  all."  About  all  matters  and  things  at  home 
she  generally  bad  her  own  way,  while  Uncle  Tim  would  scold,  and 
give  up,  with  a  regular,  good  grace  tiiat  was  quite  creditable. 

"Fattier,"  says  Grace,  "  1  want  to  Ijave  a  party  next  week." 

"You  sha'n't  go  to  havin'your  parties,  Grace.  I  always  have  to  eat 
bits  and  ends  a  fortnight  after  you  hayp  one,  and  I  won't  have  it  so." 
And  so  Uncle  Tim  walked  out,  and  Aunt  Sally  and  Miss  Grace  pro- 
ceeded to  make  the  cake  and  pies  for  the  party. 

When  Uncle  Tim  came  home,  he  saw  a  long  army  of  pies,  and 
rows  of  cake  on  the  kitchen  table. 

"  Grace,  Grace,  Grace,  I  say !     What  is  all  this  flummery  for  ?  " 

"Why,  it  is  to  eat,  father,"  said  Grace,  witk  a  good-natured  look 
of  consciousness. 

Uncle  Tim  tried  his  best  to  look  sour ;  but  his  visage  began  to  wax 
comical,  as  he  looked  at  his  merry  daughter ;  so  he  said  nothing,  but 
quietly  sat  down  to  his  dinner. 

"  Father,"  said  Grace,  after  dinner,  "  we  shall  want  two  more  can- 
dlesticks next  week." 

"  Why,  can't  you  have  your  party  with  what  you've  got  ?  " 

"  No,  father,  we  want  two  more." 

"  I  can't  afford  it,  Grace  —  there's  no  sort  of  use  on't,  and  you 
sha'n't  have  any." 

"  O,  father,  now  do,"  said  Grace. 

"I  won't,  neither,"  said  Uncle  Tim,  as  he  sallied  out  of  the  house, 
and  took  the  road  to  Comfort  Seran's  store. 

In  half  an  hour  he  returned  again,  and  fumbling  in  his  pocket,  and 
drawing  forth  a  candlestick,  levelled  it  at  Grace. 

"  There's  your  candlestick." 

"  But,  father,  I  said  I  wanted  two." 

""Why,  can't  you  make  one  do  ?  " 

"  No,  I  can't  —  I  must  have  two." 

"  Well,  then,  there's  t'other  —  and  here's  a  fol-de-rol  for  you  to  tie  ♦ 
roimd  your  neck."     So  saying,  he  bolted  for  the  door,  and  took  him- 
self off  with  all  speed.     It  was  much  after  this  fashion  that  matters 
commonly  went  on  in  the  brown  house. 

But,  having  tarried  too  long  on  the  way,  we  must  proceed  with  our 
main  story. 

James  thought  Miss  Grace  was  a  glorious  girl,  and  as  to  what  Miss 
Grace  thought  of  Alaster  James,  perhaps  it  would  not  have  bee'n  de- 


A    NEW    ENGLAND    SKETCH.  35 

veloped,  had  ehe  not  been  called  to  stand  on  the  defensive  for  him 
with  Uncle  Tim.  For,  from  the  time  that  the  whole  village  of  New- 
bury began  to  be  wholly  given  unto  the  praise  of  Master  James,  Un- 
cle Tim  set  his  iace  as  a  flint  against  him,  from  the  laudable  fear  of 
following  the  multitude.  He  tlierefore  made  conscience  of  stoutly 
gainsaying  every  thing  that  was  said  in  his  favor,  which,  as  James 
was  in  high  favor  with  Aunt  Sally,  he  had  ii-ecjuent  oj)|)ortunities  to  do. 

So  when  Miss  Grace  perceived  that  Uncle  Tim  ilid  not  like  our 
hero  as  much  as  he  ought  to  do,  she,  of  course,  was  bound  to  like 
him  well  enough  to  njake  up  for  it.  Certain  it  is,  that  they  Avere  re- 
markably haj)py  in  finding  opportunities  of  being  acquainted  ;  that 
James  waited  on  her,  as  a  matter  of  course,  from  singing  school ; 
that  he  volunteered  making  a  new  box  ibr  her  geranium  on  an  im- 
j)roved  plan  ;  and,  above  all,  that  he  was  remarkably  particular  in  his 
attentions  to  Aunt  Sally  —  a  stroke  of  policy  whiciit  showed  that 
James  had  a  natural  genius  for  this  sort  of  matters.  Even  when 
emerging  from  the  meeting-house,  in  full  glory,  with  flute  and  jisalm- 
book  under  his  arm,  he  would  stop  to  ask  her  how  she  did  ;  and  if 
it  was  cold  weather,  he  would  carry  her  foot-stove  all  the  way  home 
from  meeting,  discoursing  uj)on  the  sermon,  and  other  usel'ul  mat- 
ters, as  Aunt  Sally  observed,  ''in  the  pleasantest,  prettiest  way  that 
ever  ye  see."  This  flute  was  one  of  the  crying  sins  of  James,  in  the 
eyes  of  Uncle  Tim.  James  was  particularly  fond  of  it,  because  he 
had  learned  to  play  on  it  by  intuition ;  and  ou  the  decease  of  the 
old  pitch-pipe,  which  was  slain  by  a  fall  from  the  gallery,  he  took  the 
liberty  to  introduce  the  flute  in  its  place.  For  this  and  other  sins,  and 
for  the  good  reasons  above  named,  Uncle  Tim's  countenance  was  not 
towards  James,  neither  could  he  be  moved  Jiim-ward  by  any  manner 
of  means. 

To  all  Aunt  Sally's  good  words  and  speeches  he  had  only  to  say 
that  "he  didn't  like  him;  that  he  hated  to  see  him  a' manifesting 
and  glorifying  there  in  the  front  gallery,  Sundays,  and  a' acting  every 
where  as  if  he  was  master  of  all ;  he  didn't  like  it,  and  he  would'nt." 
But  our  hero  was  no  whit  cast  down  or  discomfited  by  the  malcon- 
tent aspect  of  Uncle  Tim.  On  the  contrary,  when  report  was  made 
to-him  of  divers  of  his  hard  speeches,  he  only  shrugged,  his  shoul- 
ders with  a  very  satisfied  air,  and  remarked,  that  "he  knew  a  thuig 
or  too  for  all  that." 

"Why,  James,"  said  his  companion  and  chief  counsellor,  "do  you 
think  Grace  likes  you  ?  "  , 

"I  don't  know,"  said  our  hero,  with  a  comfortable  appearance  of 
certainty. 

"  But  you  can't  get  her,  James,  if  Uncle  Tim  is  cross  about  it." 
♦  "Fudge !  1  can  make  Uncle  Tim  like  me,  if  I've  a  mind  to  try." 

"  Well,  then,  Jim,  you'll  have  to  give  up  that  'arc  flOte  of  yours,  I 
till  ye  now."  '  ♦  ^       • 

"  FaWj  sol,  law ;  Til  make  him  like  me,  and  mf  flute  too." 

"Why,  how'llyedoit?" 

«  O,  ril  work  it,"  said  our  hero. 

"  Well,  Jim,  J  tell  you  now  you  don't  know  Uncle  Tim,  if  you  eay 
so;    for  he's  jist  the  stttest  crittur,  in  his  way,  that  ever  ye  see." 


36  TH§   FAMILY    VISITOR. 

"I  do  know  Uncle  Tim,  tho',  better  than  most  folks.  He's  no  more 
cross  than  I  am ;  and  as  to  Jiis  being  set,  you've  nothing  to  do  but 
make  him  think  he's  in  his  own  way,  wlien  he's  iii  yours  —  that's 
all." 

"Well,"  said  the  other,' "but  ye  see  I  don't  believe  it," 

"And  I'll  bet  you  a  gray  squirrel,  that  I'll  go  there  this  very  even- 
ing, and  get  him  to  like  me  and  my  flute  both,"  said  James. 

Accordingly  the  late  sunshine  of  that  afternoon  shone  full  on  the 
yellow  buttons  of  James,  as  he  proceeded  to  the  place  of  conflict. 
It  was  a  bright,  beautiful  evening.  A  thunder-storm  had  just  cleared 
away,  and  the  silver  clouds  lay  rolled  up  in  masses  around  the  setting 
.«un;  the  rain-drops  were  sparkling  and  winking  to  each  other  over 
the  ends  of  the  leaves,  and  all  the  blue-birds  and  robins,  breaking 
forth  into  song,  made  the  little  green  valley  as  merry  as  a  musi- 
cal box. 

James's  soul  was  always  overflowing  with  that  kind  of  poetiy 
which  consists  in  feeling  unspeakably  happy;  and  it  is  not  tobe  .. 
wondered  at,  considering  where  he  was  going,  that  he  should  feel  in 
a  double  ecstasy  on  the  present  occasion.  He  stepped  gayly  along, 
occasionally  springing  over  a  fence  to  the  right,  to  see  whether  the 
rain  had  swollen  the  trout-brook,  or  to  the  left,  to  notice  the  ripening 
of  Mr.  Somebody's  water-melons  ;  for  James  had  an  eye  on  all  his 
neighbors'  matters,  as  well  as  his  own. 

In  this  way  he  proceeded,  till  he  arrived  at  the  picket  fence  that 
marked  the  commencement  of  Uncle  Tim's  ground.  Here  he 
stopped  to  consider.  Just  then,  four  or  five  sheep  walked  u]),  and 
began  also  to  consider  a  loose  |)icket,  which  was  hanging  just  ready  to 
dropoff";  and  James  began  to  look  at  the  sheep.  "  Well,  mister," 
said  he,  as  he  obsei-ved  the  leader  judiciously  drawing  himself  through*. 
the  gap,  "  in  with  you — just  what  I  wanted ;"  and  having  waited  a 
moment  to  ascertain  thsit  all  the  company  were  likely  to  Ibllow,  he 
ran  with  all  haste  towards  the  house,  and  swinging  open  the  gate, 
j)ressed  all  breathless  to  the  door. 

"Uncle  Tim,  there's  four  or  five  sheep  in  your  garden."  Uncle 
Tim  dropped  his  whetstone  and  scythe. 

"  I'll  drive  them  out,  sh'a'nt  I?  "  said  our  hero ;  and  with  that  he  ran 
down  the  garden  alley,  and  made  a  furious  descent  on  the  enemy, 
bestirring  himself,  as  Bunyan  says,  "lustily  and  with  good  courage," 
till  every  shce[)  had  skipped  out  much  quicker  than  he  skipped  in ; 
and  then,  springing  over  the  fence,  he  seized  a  great  stone  and  nailed 
on  tlie  picket  so  eflTeolually,  that  no  sheep  could  possibly  encourage 
the  hope  of  getting  in  again.  This  was  all  the  work  of  a  minute, 
and  he  -svas  back  again,  but  so  exceedingly  out  of  breath,  that  it  wfis 
necessary  for  hun  to  stop  and  take  breath. 

"  What  under  the  canopy  set  you  to  scampering  so,"  said  Uncle 
Tim  ;  "I  could  a'  driv'  out  them  critturs  myself." 

"  If  you're  at  all  particular  about  driving  'em  out  you^df,  I  can 
let  'em  in  ngain,"  said  James. 

Uncle  Tim  looked  at  him  with  an  odd  sort  of  a  twinkle  in  the 
corner  of  his  eye.  .  ' 

"  'Sposo  I  must  ask  you  to  walk  in,"  said  he. 


A   NEW    ENGLAND    SKETCH.  37 

•*  Much  obliged,"  said  James» «  but  I  am  in  a  gr^  tiurry."  So  say- 
ing, he  started  in  a  very  business-hke  fashion  toward  the  gate. 

"  You'd  better  just  stop  a  mimite." 

"  Can't  stay  a  minute." 

"  I  don't  see  what  possesses  you  to  be  all  the  while  in  sich  a  hur- 
ry ;  a  body  would  think  you  had  all  creation  on  your  shoulders." 

"  Just  my  situation,  Uncle  Tim,"  said  James,  swinging  open  the 
gate. 

"  Well,  at  any  rate,  have  a  drink  of  cider,  can't  ye  ?  "  said  Uncle 
Tim,  who  was  now  quite  engaged  to  have  his  own  way  in  the  case. 

James  found  it  convenient  to  accept  this  invitation,  and  Uncle  Tim 
was  twice  as  good-natured  as  if  he  had  staid  in  the  first  of  the 
matter. 

Once  fairly  forced  into  the  premises,  James  thought  fit  to  forget 
his  long  walk  and  excess  of  business,  especially  as  about  that  mo- 
ment Aunt  Sally  and  Miss  Grace  returned  from  an  afternoon  call. 
You  may  be  sure  that  the  last  thing  these  respectable  ladies  looked 
for,  was  to  find  Uncle  Tim  and  Master  James,  Ute-h-Ute,  over  a 
pitcher  of  cider ;  and  when,  as  they  entered,  our  hero  looked  up  with 
something  of  a  mischievous  air.  Miss  Grace  in  particular  was  so  puz- 
zled, that  it  took  her  at  least  a  quarter  of  an  hour  to  untie  her  bonnet 
strings.  But  James  staid  and  acted  the  agreeable  to  perfection. 
First,  he  must  needs  go  down  into  the  garden,  to  look  at  Uncle  Tim's 
wonderful  cabbages ;  and  then  he  promenaded  all  around  the  corn 
patch,  stopping  every  few  moments  and  looking  up  with  an  appear- 
ance of  great  gratification,  as  if  he  never  saw  such  corn  in  his  life ; 
and  then  he  examined  Uncle  Tim's  favorite  apple  tree,  with  an  ex- 
pression of  wonderful  interest. 

"  What  kind  of  a  tree  is  that.  Uncle  Tim  ?  " 

"It's  a  bell-flower,  or  somethin'  another,"  said  Uncle  Tim,  some- 
what mollified. 

"  Why,  where  did  you  get  it .'  I  never  saw  such  apples ! "  said  our 
hero,  with  his  eyes  still  fixed  on  the  tree.  • 

Uncle  Tim  pulled  up  a  stalk  or  two  of  weeds,  and  threw  them 
over  the  fence,  just  to  show  that  he  did  not  care  any  thing  about  the 
matter ;  and  then  he  came  up,  and  stood  by  James. 

"  'Tisn't  nothing  so  remarkable,  as  I  know  on,"  said  he. 

"  I  never !  "  James  broke  forth,  having  stationed  himself  against 
the  fence  opposite  to  it. 

Just  then  Grace  came  to  say  that  supper  was  ready.  Once  seated 
at  table,  it  was  astonishing  to  see  the  perfect  and  smiling  assurance 
with  which  our  hero  continued  his  addresses  to  Uncle  Tim.  It  some- 
times goes  a  great  way  towards  making  people  like  us,  to  take  it  ibr 
grunted  that  they  do  already ;  and  upon  this  principle  James  pro- 
ceeded. He  talked,  laughed,  told  stories,  and  joked  with  the  mogt 
fearless  assurance ;  occasionally  seconding  his  words  by  looking  Un- 
cle Tim  lull  in  the  face,  with  m  countenance  so  full  of  good-will  as 
would  have  melted  any  snow-drift  of  prejudice  in  the  world. 

James,  also,  had  one  natural  accomplishment,  more  courtier-like 
than  all  the  diplomacy  of  Europe;  and  that  was  the  gift  of  feeling  a 
real  interest  for  any  body  in  five  minutes ;  so  that  if  he  began  to 
4 


3^ 


TUE    FAMILY    VISITOR. 


please  in  jest,  he  generally  ended  in  earnest.  With  all  the  simplici- 
ty of  his  own  mind,  he  had  a  natiu-al  tact  for  seeing  into  others,  and 
watched  their  motions  with  the  same  delight  with  wljich  a  child 
gazes  at  the  wheels  and  springs  of  a  watch,  to  see  "what  it  will  do." 

The  rough  exterior  and  latent  kindness  of  Uncle  Tim  was  quite  a 
spirit-stirring  study ;  and  when  tea  was  over,  as  he  and  Grace  fiap- 
pened  to  be  standing  together  in  the  front  door,  he  broke  forth, 

"  I  do  really  like  your  father,  Grace." 

"  Do  you,  really '?"  said  Grace. 

"  Yes,  I  do.  lie  has  something  in  him,  and  I  like  him  all  the  bet- 
ter for  having  to  fish  it  out." 

"  Well,  I  hope  you  will  make  him  like  you,"  said  Grace,  uncon- 
'Sciously ;  and  then  she  stopped  and  looked  a  little  abashed. 

James  was  too  well  bred  to  see  this,  or  look  as  if  Grace  meant 
any  thing  more  than  she  said  —  a  kind  of  breeding  not  always  at- 
tendant on  more  fashionable  polish :  so  he  only  answered, 

"  I  think  1  shall,  Grace,  though  I  doubt  whether  I  can  get  him  to 
own  it." 

"He's  the  kindest  man  that  ever  was,"  said  Grace  ;  "and  he  al- 
ways acts  as  if  he  was  ashamed  of  it." 

James  turned  a  little  away,  and  looked  at  the  bright  evening  sky, 
which  was  glowing  like  a  calm,  golden  sea  ;  and  over  it  was  the  sil- 
ver .new  moon,  with  one  little  star  to  hold  the  candle  for  her.  He 
shook  some  bright  drops  off  from  a  rose-bush  near  by,  and  watched 
to  see  them  shine  as  they  fell,  while  Grace  stood  very  quietly  wait- 
ing for  him  to  speak  again. 

"Gi'ace,"  said  he  at  last,  "I  am  going  to  college  this  fall." 

"  So  you  told  me,  yesterday,"  said  Grace,  dryly. 

James  stooped  down  over  Grace's  geranium,  and  began  to  busy 
himself  with  pulling  off  all  the  dead  leaves^  remarking,  in  the  mean 
while, 

"  And  if  I  do  get  him  to  like  me,  Grace,  will  you  like  me  too  ?  " 

"  1  like  you  now,  very  well,"  said  Grace. 

"  Come,  Grace,  you  know  what  I  mean,"  said  James,  looking  stead- 
iastly  at  the  top  of  the  apple  ti'ee. 

"  Well,  I  wisli  then  you  would  understand  what  I  mean,  without 
my  saying  any  more  about  it,"  said  Grace. 

"  O,  to  be  sure  I  will,"  said  our  hero,  looking  up  with  a  very  in- 
telligent air ;  and  so,  as  Aunt  Sally  would  say,  the  matter  was  set- 
tled with  "  no  words  about  it." 

Now,  shall  we  narrate  how  our  hero,  as  he  saw  Uncle  Tim  ap- 
proaching the  door,  had  the  impudence  to  take  out  his  flute,  and  put 
the  parts  together,  screwing  it  i-ound  and  fixing  it  with  great  com- 
posure ?  0^ 

."  Uncle  Tim,"  said  he,  looking  up,  "  this  is  the  best  flute  that  most 
ever  I  saw." 

« I  hate  them  tooting  critturs,"  saii*Uncle  Tim,  snappishly. 

"  I  declare !  I  wonder  how  you  can  ! "  said  James,  "  for  I  do  think 
they  exceed  "  — 

So  saying,  he  put  the  flute  to  his  mouth,  and  ran  up  and  down  a 
long  flourish. 


A   NEW    ENGLAND    SKETCH.  3d 

•       * 

*»  There !    What  do  you  tliink  of  that  ?  "  said  he,  looking  in  Uncle    # 
Tim's  face  with  much  delight 

Uncle  Tim  turned  and  marched  into  the  house,  but  soon  faced  to 
the  right  about,  and  came  out  again. 

James  was  fingering  "  Yankee  Doodle,"  that  appropriate  national 
air  for  the  descendants  of  the  Puritans. 

Uncle  Tim's  patriotism  began  to  bestir  itself;  and  now  if  it  had 
been  any  thing,  as  he  said,  but  "that  'are  flute."  As  it  was,  he  looked 
more  than  once  at  James's  fingers. 

"  How  under  the  sim  could  you  learn  to  do  tliat  ?  "  said  he. 

"  O,  it's  easy  enough,"  said  James,  proceeding  with  another  tune ; 
and  having  played  it  through,  he  stopped  a  moment  to  examine  the 
joints  of  his  flute;  and  in  the  mean  time,  addressed  Uncle  Tim  — 
"  You  can't  think  how  grand  this  is  for  pitching  tunes ;  I  always  pitch 
the  tunes,  Sunday,  with  it." 

"  Yes ;  but  I  don't  think  it's  a  right  and  fit  instrument  for  the  Lord's 
house,"  said  Uncle  Tim. 

"  Why  not  ?  It's  only  a  kind  of  a  long  pitch-pipe,  you  see,"  said 
James;  "and  seeing  the  old  one  is  broken,  and  this  will  answer,  I 
don't  see  why  it  isn't  better  than  nothing." 

"  Why,  yes,  it  may  be  better  tlian  nothing,"  said  Uncle  Tim ;  "^ut, 
as  I  always  tell  Grace  and  my  wife,  it  ain't  the  right  kind  of  instru- 
ment, after  all ;  it  ain't  solemn." 

"  O,  solemn ! "  said  James ;  "  that's  according  to  how  you  work  it 
See  here,  now." 

So  saying,  he  struck  up  Old  Hundred,  and  proceeded  through  it 
with  great  perseverance. 

"  There,  now,"  said  he. 

"Well,  well— I  don't  know  but  it  is,"  said  Uncle  Tim ;  "but  as  I 
said  at  first,  I  don't  like  the  look  of  it  in  a  meetin'." 

"  But  yet  you  really  think  it's  better  than  nothing,"  said  James, 
"for  you  see  I  couldn't  pitch  my  tunes  without  it" 

"  May  be  'tis,"  said  Uncle  Tim ;  "  but  that  ain't  sayin'  much." 

This,  however,  was  enough  for  Master  James,  who  soon  after  de- 
parted with  his  flute  in  his  pocket,  and  Grace's  last  words  in  his 
heart;  soliloquizing,  as  he  shut  the  gate,  "There,  now,  I  hope  Aunt 
Sally  won't  go  to  praising  me;  for  just  so  sure  as  she  does,  I  shall       * 
have  it  all  to  do  over  again."  ^^^ 

James  was  right  in  his  apprehension.  Uncle  Tim  coulobe  pri- 
vately converted,  but  not  brought  to  open  confession.  And  when,  the 
next  morning,  Aunt  Sally  remarked,  in  the  kindness  of  her  heart, 

"Well,  I  always  knew  you  would  come  to  like  James,"  Uncle  Tim 
only  responded,  "  Who  said  I  did  like  him  ?" 
♦"  But  I'm  sure  you  seemed  to  like  him  last  night," 

"Why,  I  couldn't  tiUTi  him  out  o'  doors,  could  I?  I  don't  think 
nothin'  of  him  but  what  1  alwavs  did." 

But  it  was  to  be  remarkeeJIhat  Uncle  Tim  contented  himself)  at 
this  time,  with  the  mere  general  avowal,  without  running  it  into  par- 
ticulars, as  was  formerly  his  wont  It  was  evident  that  the  ice  had 
begun  to  melt ;  but  it  might  have  been  a  long  time  in  dissolring,  had 
not  collateral  incidents  assisted. 


40  THE   FAMILY   VISITOR. 

It  80  happened,  that  about  this  time  George  Griswold,  the  only  son, 
before  referred  to,  returned  to  his  native  village,  after  having  com- 
pleted his  theological  studies  at  a  neighboring  institution.  It  is  in- 
teresting to  mark  the  gradual  development  of  mind  and  heart,  from 
the  time  that  the  white-headed,  bashtul  boy  quits  the  country  village 
for  college,  to  the  period  when  he  returns  a  formed  and  perfect  man  ; 
to  notice  how  gradually  the  rust  of  early  prejudices  begins  to  cleave 
from  him;  how  his  opinions,  like  his  hand-writing,  pass  from  the 
cramped  and  limited  forms  of  a  country  school,  into  that  confirmed 
and  characteristic  style  which  is  to  mark  the  man  ibr  life.  In  George 
this  change  was  remarkably  striking.  He  was  endowed  by  nature 
with  uncommon  acuteness  of  feeling  and  fondness  for  reflection  — 
qualities  as  likely  as  any  to  render  a  child  backward  and  miiuterest- 
ing  in  early  life. 

When  he  left  Newbury  for  college,  he  was  a  taciturn  and  appa- 
rently phlegmatic  boy,  only  evincing  sensibility  by  blushing,  and 
looking  particularly  stupefied  whenever  any  one  spoke  to  him.  Va- 
cation after  vacation  passed,  and  he  retm'ned  more  and  more  an  al- 
tered being ;  and  he  who  once  shrunk  from  the  eye  of  the  deacon, 
and  was  ready  to  die  if  he  met  the  minister,  now  moved  about  among 
the  dignitaries  of  the  place  with  all  the  composure  of  a  superior 
being. 

It  was  only  to  be  regi*etted  that,  while  the  mind  improved,  the 
physical  energies  declined ;  and  that  every  visit  to  his  home  found 
him  paler,  thinner,  and  less  prepared  in  body  for  the  sacred  profes- 
sion to  which  he  had  devoted  himselC  But  now  he  was  retiuuied  a 
muiieter,  a  real  minister,  with  a  right  to  stand  in  the  pulpit  and 
preach ;  and  what  a  joy  and  gloiy  to  Aunt  Sally  and  to  Uncle  Tim, 
if  he  was  not  ashamed  to  own  it ! 

The  first  Sunday  after  he  came,  it  was  known  far  and  near  that 
George  Griswold  was  to  preach.  Never  was  a  more  ready  and  ex- 
pectant audience. 

As  the  time  for  reading  the  first  psahn  approached,  you  might  see  the 
white-headed  men  tm'ning  their  faces  attentively  towards  the  pulpit 
The  anxious  and  expectant  old  women,  with  their  little  black  bonnets, 
bent  forward  to  see  him  rise.  There  were  the  children  looking,  be- 
cause every  one  else  looked.  There  was  Uncle  Tim,  in  the  front 
pew,  his  face  considerately  adjusted.  There  was  Aunt  Sally,  seeming 
as  pleased  as  a  mother  coidd  seem  ;  and  Miss  Grace,  lifting  her  sweet 
face  to  her  brother,  like  a  flower  to  the  sun.  There  was  our  friend 
jb^mes,  in  the  front  gallery,  his  joyous  countenance  a  little  touched 
with  sobriety  and  expectation.  In  short,  a  more  embarrassingly  at- 
tentive audience  never  greeted  the  first  effort  of  a  young  minister. 
Under  these  circumstances,  there  was  something  touching  in  ii 
fervent  self-forgetfulness  which  characterized  the  first  efibrts  of  th^ 
morning — something  which  moved  every  one  in  the  house. 

The  devout  poetry  of  his  prayer,  riclMvith  the  Orientalism  of  Scrip- 
ture, and  eloquent  with  the  expression  of  strong  yet  chastened  emo- 
tion, breathed  over  his  audience  like  music,  hushing  every  one  to  si- 
lence, and  beguiling  every  one  to  feeling.  In  the  sermon,  there  was 
the  strong,  intellectual  nerve,  the  constant  occurrence  of  argument 


A   NEW   ENGLAND    SKETCH.  .  41 

and  statement  which  distinguishes  a  New  England  discourse ;  but 
it  was  touched  witli  life,  by  the  intense  yet  half  subdued  feelings 
with  which  he  seemed  to  utter  it  Like  the  rays  of  the  sun,  it  en- 
lightened and  melted  at  the  same  moment. 

The  strong  peculiarities  of  New  England  doctrine,  involving  as 
they  do  all  the  dark  n)achinery  of  mind,  all  the  mystery  of  its  divine 
revelations  and  future  progression,  and  all  the  tremendous  uncer- 
tainties of  its  eternal  good  or  ill,  seemed  to  have  dwelt  in  his  mind, 
to  have  burned  in  his  thoughts,  to  have  wrestled  with  his  powers ; 
and  they  gave  to  his  manner  tlie  fervency,  almost,  of  another  world ; 
while  the  exceeding  paleness  of  liis  countenance,  and  a  tremulous- 
ness  of  voice  that  seemed  to  spring  from  bodily  weakness,  touched 
the  strong  workings  of  his  mind  with  a  pathetic  interest,  as  if 
the  being,  so  easily  absorbed  in  another  world,  could  not  be  long 
for  this. 

When  the  services  were  over,  tlie  congregation  dispersed  with 
the  air  of  people  who  fdt  rather  than  Jieard;  and  all  the  criticism 
that  followed  was  similar  to  that  of  Deacon  Hail  —  an  upright, 
shrewd  man  —  who,  as  he  lingered  a  moment  at  the  church  door, 
turned  and  gazed  with  unwonted  feeling  at  the  young  preacher. 

"  He's  a  blessed  cre'tur ! "  said  he,  the  tears  actually  making  their 
way  to  his  eyes  ;  "  I  ha'n't  been  so  near  heaven  this  many  a  day. 
He's  a  blessed  cre'tur  of  the  Lord  —  that's  my  mind  about  him  ! " 

As  for  our  friend  James,  he  was  at  first  sobered,  then  deeply 
moved,  and  at  last  wholly  absorbed,  by  the  discourse  ;  and  it  was 
only  when  meeting  was  over,  that  he  began  to  think  where  he 
really  was. 

"  Well,"  said  he,  "  I  never  was  so  sure  I  had  a  soul  before ;  PU  be 
a  different  man,  I  know  I  will." 

With  all  his  versatile  activity,  James  had  a  greater  depth  of  men- 
tal capacity  than  he  himself  was  aware  of,  and  he  began  to  feel  a 
sort  of  electric  affinity  for  a  mind  that  had  touched  him  in  a  way  so 
new,  and  when  he  saw  the  mild  minister  standing  at  the  foot  of  the 
pulpit  stairs,  he  made  directly  towards  him. 

"I  do  want  to  hear  you  talk  more,"  said  he,  with  a  face  full  of 
earnestness;  "may  I  walk  home  with  you  ?" 

"  It's  a  long  and  warm  walk,"  said  the  minister,  smiling. 

" O,  I  don't  care  for  that,  if  it  does  not  trouble  you"  said  James ; 
and  leave  being  gained,  you  might  have  seen  them  slowly  passing 
along  under  the  trees,  James  pouring  forth  all  the  floods  of  inquiry 
which  the  sudden  impulse  of  liis  mind  had  brought  out,  and  sup- 
plying his  guide  with  more  questions  and  problems  for  solution, 
^han  he  could  have  gone  through  with  in  a  month. 

"I  cannot  answer  all  your  questions  now,"  said  he,  as  they 
stopped  at  imclc  Tim's  gate. 

"Well,  then,  when  will  mu?"  said  James,  eagerly.  "Let  me 
come  home  with  you  to-nigll^ 

The  good  man  smiled  assent,  and  James  departed  so  full  of  new 

thoughts,  that  he  passed  Grace  without  even  seeing  her.    From 

that  time  a  friendship  commenced  between  the  two,  which  was  a 

beautiful   illustration  of  the  afiinity  of  opposites.     It  vms  like  a 

4* 


46  tA  family  visitor. 

heaven  with  him ;  and  I  think  the  Lord  really  did  know  what  was 
best,  after  all."  j 

Our  friend  James  seemed  now  to  become  the  support  of  the 
family,  and  the  bereaved  old  man  unconsciously  began  to  ti'ansfer  to 
him  tlie  affections  that  had  been  left  vacant. 

"James,"  said  lie  to  him  one  day,  "I  suppose  you  know  that  you 
are  about  the  same  to  me  as  a  son." 

"  I  hope  so.  Uncle  Tim,"  said  James,  kindly. 

"Well,  well,  you'll  go  to  college  next  week,  and  none  o'  y'r  keep- 
ing school  to  get  along.  I've  got  enough  to  bring  you  safe  out  — 
tliat  is,  if  you'll  be  earful  and  stiddy. 

James  knew  the  heart  too  well  to  refuse  a  favor  in  which  the 
poor  old  man's  mind  was  comforting  itself ;  he  had  the  self-command 
to  abstain  from  any  extraordinary  expressions  of  gratitude,  but  took 
it  kindly  as  a  matter  of  course. 

"Deal-  Grace,"  said  he  to  her,  the  last  evening  before  he  left 
home,  "  I  am  changed ;  we  both  are  altered  since  we  first  knew 
each  other ;  and  now  I  am  going  to  be  gone  a  long  time,  but  I  am 
sure  —  " 

He  stopped  to  an'ange  his  thoughts. 

"  Yes,  you  may  be  sure  of  all  those  things  that  you  wish  to  say, 
and  cannot,"  said  Grace. 

"  Thank  you,"  said  James ;  then  looking  thoughtfully,  he  added, 

"  God  help  me.  I  believe  I  have  mind  enough  to  be  what  I  mean 
to ;  but  whatever  I  am  or  have,  shall  be  given  to  God  and  my  fel- 
low-men ;  and  then,  Grace,  your  brother  in  heaven  will  rejoice  over 
me." 

"  I  believe  he  does  now,"  said  Grace.  "  God  bless  you,  James ; 
I  don't  know  what  would  have  become  of  us,  if  you  had  not  been 
here. 

"  Yes,  you  will  live  to  be  like  him,  and  to  do  more  good^  she  added, 
her  face  brightenmg  as  she  spoke,  till  James  thought  she  really 

must  be  right. 

#         #         «         ******** 

It  was  five  years  after  this,  that  James  was  spoken  of  as  an 

eloquent  and  successful  minister  in  the  county  of  C ,  and  was 

settled  in  one  of  its  most  influential  villages.  Late  one  autumn 
evening,  a  tall,  bony,  hard-favored  man  was  observed  making  his 
way  into  the  outskirts  of  the  place. 

"  Halloa,  there  ! "  he  called  to  a  man  over  the  other  side  of  the 
fence ;  "  what  town  is  this  ere  ?" 

"It's  Farmington,  sir." 

"Well,  I  want  to  know  if  you  know  any  thing  of  a  boy  of  mine 
that  lives  here  ?  " 

"  A  boy  of  yours  ?  —  who  ?  " 

"Why,  I've  got  a  boy  here,  that's  living  on  the  toion;  and  I 
thought  I'd  jest  look  him  up." 

"  I  don't  know  any  boy  that's  livin'  on  the  town :  what's  his  name  ?  " 

"  Why,"  said  the  old  man,  pushing  his  hat  off"  from  bis  forehead, 
"  1  believe  they  call  him  James  Benton."  ^ 

"James  Benton !  why,  that's'our  minister's  name." 


A   NETT   ENGLAND    SKRCH.  47 

"O,  wal,  I  iK'lievc  be  is  the  miuister,  come  to  think  on't  He's  a 
boy  o'  mine,  the'.     WJiere  does  he  live  ?  " 

"  In  tliat  white  house,  that  you  'see  set  back  from  the  road  there, 
with  all  those  trees  round  it." 

At  this  instant,  a  tall,  manly-looking  person  approached  from  bet 
hiud.  Have  we  not  seen  that  face  before  ?  It  is  a  touch  graver 
than  of  old,  and  its  Imes  have  a  more  thoughtful  signiiicAice ;  but 
all  the  vivacity  of  James  Benton  sparkles  in  that  quick  smile,  as  hia 
eye  falls  on  tlie  old  man. 

"I  iliought  you  could  not  keep  away  from  us  long,"  said  he,  with 
the  prompt  cheerflilness  of  his  boyhood,  and  laying  hold  of  both 
Uncle  Tim's  hands. 

They  approached  the  gate ;  a  bright  face  glances  past  the  win- 
dow, and  in  a  moment,  Grace  is  at  the  door. 

«  Father !  dear  father ! " 

"  You'd  better  make  believe  be  so  glad,"  said  Uocle  Tim,  his  eye 
glistening  as  he  spoke. 

"  Come,  come,  father ;  I'm  used  to  authority  in  these  days,"  said 
Grace,  drawing  him  towai'ds  the  house ;  "  so  no  disrespectful 
epeecbes ;  and  now  I  shall  fall  upon  and  seize  this  great  Qoat,  and 
away  with  your  hat,  and  then  you  must  sit  down  in  this  great  chair." 

"So,  hoi  Miss  Grace,"  said  Uncle  Tim;  "you  are  at  your  old 
tricks,  ordering  round  as  usual.  Well,  if  I  must,  I  must."  So  down 
he  sat.  9t,  ^. 

"  Father,"  said  Grace,  as  he  was  leaving  them,  after  tfTew  days' 
stay,  "it's  thanksgiving  day  next  month,  and  you  and  mother  must 
come  and  stay  with  us." 

Accordingly,  tlie  following  month  found  Aunt  Sally  and  Uncle 
Tim  by  the  minister's  fireside,  delighted  witnesses  of  the  thanks- 
giving presents  which,  a  willing  people  were  pouring  in ;  and 
the  next  day  they  had  once  more  the  pleasure  of  seeing  a  son  of 
theirs  in  the  sacred  desk,  and  hearing  a  sermon  that  every  body  said 
was  the  "  best  he  ever  preached  ; "  and  it  is  to  be  remarked,  by  the 
'  ly,  that  this  was  the  standing  commentary  on  all  James's  discourses ; 
')  that  it  was  evident  that  he  was  "going  on  unto  perfection." 

"  There's  a  great  deal  that's  worth  havin'  in  this  ere  life,  a'ter  all," 
said  Uncle  Tim,  as  he  sat  musing  over  the  coals  of  the  bright  even- 
ly fire  of  that  day,  "  that  is,  if  we'd  only  taht  it  when  the  Lord 
lays  it  in  our  ^vay." 

"  Yes,"  said  James ;  "  and  let  us  only  take  it  as  lee  shovld,  and  this 
life  will  be  cUfcftrfulness,  and  the  nesX  fulness  of  joy."  —  Mrs.  H.  E. 
Beecher  Slowe. 


^MAN'S  DOUBLE  DUTY. 

"  As  I  am  a  compound  of  soul  and  body,  I  consider  myself  aa 
obliged  to  a  double  scheme  of  duties ;  and  think  I  have  not  fulfilled 
the  business  <tf  the  day,  when  I  do  not  thus  employ  the  one  in 
labor  and  exercise,  as  well  as  the  other  in  study  and  contempla- 
tion." —  Addison. 


44  THE   FAMILY   VISITOR. 

"  O,  do  not  say  so,"  said  James ;  "  think  —  think  what  you  have 
done,  if  only  for  me !  God  bless  you  for  it.  GJod  jotZZ  bless  you  for 
it  —  it  will  follow  you  to  heaven  —  it  will  bring  me  there.  Yes, 
I  will  do  as  you  have  taught  me  !  I  will  give  my  life,  my  soul,  my 
whole  strength  to  it;  and  then,  you  will  not  have  lived  in  vain." 

George  smiled  and  looked  upward;  "his  face  was  that  of  an 
angel,"  and  James,  in  his  warmth,  continued  — 

"  It  is  not  /  alone  who  can  say  this  ;  we  all  bless  you ;  every  one 
in  this  place  blesses  you ;  you  will  be  had  in  everlasting  remem- 
brance by  some  hearts  here,  I  know.'" 

"Bless  God!"  said  George. 

"  We  do,"  said  James.  /  bless  him  that  1  ever  knew  you ;  we  all 
bless  him,  and  we  love  you,  and  shall  forever." 

The  glow  that  had  kindled  over  the  pale  face  of  the  invalid,  again 
faded  as  he  said, 

"  But,  James,  I  must,  I  ought  to  tell  my  father  and  mother  —  I 
ought  to,  and  how  can  I  ?  " 

At  that  moment,  the  door  opened,  and  Uncle  Tim  made  his 
appearance.  He  seemed  struck  with  the  paleness  of  George's  face ; 
and,  coming  to  the  side  of  his  bed,  he  felt  his  pulse,  and  laid  his 
hand  anxiously  on  his  forehead,  and  clearing  his  voice  several  times, 
inquired,  "if  he  didn't  feel  a  little  better." 

"  No,  father,"  said  George ;  then  taking  his  hand,  he  looked  anx- 
iously in  his  face,  and  seemed  to  hesitate  a  moment  "Father,"  he 
began,  "you  know  that  we  ought  to  submit  to  God." 

There  was  something  in  his  expression  at  this  moment,  which 
flashed  the  truth  into  the  old  man's  mind ;  he  dropped  his  son's 
hand  with  an  exclamation  of  agony,  and  turning  quickly,  left  the 
room. 

"  Father !  father  I "  said  Grace,  trying  to  rouse  him,  as  he  stood 
with  his  arms  folded  by  the  kitchen  window. 

"  Get  away,  child,"  said  he,  roughly. 

"  Fathei-,  mother  says  breakfast  is  ready." 

"I  don't  want  any  breakfast,"  said  he,  turning  short  about. 
"  Sally,  what  are  you  fixing  in  that'are  little  poringer  ?  " 

"  O,  it's  only  a  little  tea  for  George  —  'twill  comfort  him  up,  and 
make  him  feel  better,  poor  fellow." 

"You  won't  make  him  feel  better — he's  gone,"  said  Uncle  Tim, 
hoarsely. 

"O,  dear  heart!  no,"  said  Aunt  Sally. 

"Be  still  a  contradictmg  me  ;  I  won't  be  contradicted  all  the  time 
by  nobody !  The  short  of  the  case  is,  that  George  is  goin'  to  die, 
just  as  we've  got  him  ready  to  be  a  minister  and  all ;  and  I  wish  to 
pity  I  jjfas  in  my  grave  myself,  and  so  "  —  said  Uncle  Tim,  as  he 
plunged  out  of  the. door,  and  shut  it  after  him. 

It  is  well  for  man,  that  there  is  one  Being  who  sees  the  suffering 
heart  as  if  is,  and  not  as  it  manifests  itself  through  the  repellences 
of  outward  infirmity ;  and  who,  perhaps,  feels  more  for  the  stem 
and  waj'ward,  than  for  those  whose  gentler  feelings  win  for  them 
human  sympathy.  With  all  his  singularities,  there  was  in  the  heart 
of  Uncle  Tira  a  depth  of  religious  sincerity ;  but  there  are  few  char-  > 


A   NEW    ENGLAND    SkA'CH.  45 

acters  where  religion  does  any  thing  more  than  struggle  with 
natural  defect9^.fnd  modify  what  would  else  be  far  worse. 

In  this  hour  of  trial,  all  the  native  obstinacy  and  pertinacity  of 
the  old  man's  character  rose  ;  and,  while  he  felt  the  necessity  of 
submission,  it  seemed  impossible  to  submit ;  and  thus  reproaching 
himselij  struggling  in  vain  to  repress  the  murmurs  of  nature,  re- 
pulsing from  him  all  external  sympathy,  his  mind  was  "tempest- 
tost,  and  not  comforted." 

It  was  on  the  still  afternoon  of  the  following  Sabbath,  that  he  was 
sent  for,  in  haste,  to  the  chamber  of  his  son.  He  entered,  and  saw 
that  the  hour  was  come.  The  family  were  all  there ;  Grace  and 
James,  side  by  side,  beut  over  the  dying  one,  and  his  mother  sat 
aftr  off,  with  her  face  hid  in  her  apron,  "  that  she  might  not  see  the 
death  of  the  child."  The  aged  minister  was  there,  and  the  Bible 
lay  open  before  him.  The  father  walked  to  the  side  of  the  bed. 
He  stood  still,  and  gazed  on  that  face,  now  brightening  with  "life 
and  immortality."  The  son  lifted  up  his  eyes  ;  he  saw  his  father  — 
smiled,  and  put  out  his  hand.  "  I  am  glad  you  are  come,"  said  he. 
"O,  George,  to  the  pity,  don't,  donH  smile  on  me  so !  I  know  what 
is  coming  —  I  have  tried  and  tried,  and  I  canH  —  I  can't  have  it  so" 
—  and  the  old  man  sunk  by  the  side  of  the  bed — he  covered  his 
face  —  liis  frame  shook  —  and  he  sobbed  audibly.  The  room  was 
still  as  death — there  was  none  that  seemed  able  to  comfort  him. 
At  last,  the  son  repeated  in  a  sweet,  but  interrupted  voice,  those 
words  of  man's  best  friend :  —  "  Let  not  your  heart  be  troubled ;  in 
my  Father's  house  are  many  mansions." 

"Yes  —  but  I  canH  help  being  troubled  —  I  suppose  the  Lord's 
will  must  be  done  —  but  it'll  kill  me." 

"  O,  father,  don't  —  don't  break  my  heart,"  said  the  son,  much 
agitated.  "  I  shall  see  ^ou  again  in  heaven,  and  you  shall  see  me 
again,  and  then  'your  heart  shall  rejoice,  and  your  joy  no  man 
taketh  from  you.' " 

"  I  never  shall  get  to  heaven,  if  I  feel  as  I  do  now,"  said  the  old 
man  ;  "  I  cannot  have  it  so." 

The  mild  face  of  the  sufferer  was  overcast.    "  I  wish  he  saw  all 
that  /  do,"  said  he,  in  a  low  voice ;  then  looking  towards  the  mfels-  • 
ter,  he  articulated,  "  Pray  for  us." 

"  They  knelt  in  prayer.  It  was  soothing,  as  reed  prayer  always 
must  be ;  and  when  they  rose,  every  one  seemed  more  calm.  But 
the  sufferer  was  exhausted  —  his  countenance  changed  —  he  looked 
on  his  friends  —  there  was  a  faint  whisper  —  "Peace  I  leave  with 
you  "  —  and  he  was  in  heaven. 

We  need  not  dwell  on  what  followed.  The  seed  sown  by  tlie 
righteous  often  blossoms  over  their  grave  ;  and  so  it  was  with  this 
good  man ;  the  words  of  peace  which  he  spake  uiko  his  friends, 
while  he  was  yet  with  them,  came  into  remembrance  after  he  was 
gone ;  and  though  he  was  laid  urthe  grave  with  many  tears,  yet  it 
was  with  softened  and  submissive  hearts. 

"  The  Lord  bless  him,"  said  Uncle  Tim,  as  he  and  James  were 
standing,  last  of  all,  over  the  grave.    "  I  believe  my  heart's  gone  to 


46  Tllft    FAMILY    VISITOR. 

heaven  with  him ;  and  I  think  the  Lord  really  did  know  what  was 
best,  after  all." 

Our  friend  James  seemed  now  to  become  the  support  of  the 
family,  and  the  bereaved  old  man  unconsciously  began  to  transfer  to 
him  the  affections  that  had  been  left  vacant. 

"James,"  said  he  to  him  one  day,  "I  suppose  you  know  that  you 
are  about  the  same  to  me  as  a  son." 

"  I  hope  so.  Uncle  Tim,"  said  James,  kindly. 

"  Well,  well,  you'll  go  to  college  next  week,  and  none  o'  y'r  keep- 
ing school  to  get  along.  I've  got  enough  to  bring  you  safe  out  — 
that  is,  if  you'll  be  car'' fid  and  stiddy. 

James  knew  the  heart  too  well  to  refuse  a  favor  in  which  the 
poor  old  man's  mind  was  comforting  itself;  he  had  the  self-command 
to  abstain  from  any  extraordinary  expressions  of  gratitude,  but  took 
it  kindly  as  a  matter  of  course. 

"Dear  Grace,"  said  he  to  her,  the  last  evening  before  he  left 
home,  "  I  am  changed ;  we  both  are  altered  since  we  first  knew 
each  other ;  and  now  I  am  going  to  be  gone  a  long  time,  but  I  am 
sure  —  " 

He  stopped  to  arrange  his  thoughts. 

"  Yes,  you  may  be  sure  of  all  those  things  that  you  wish  to  say, 
and  cannot,"  said  Grace. 

"  Thank  you,"  said  James ;  then  looking  thoughtfully,  he  added, 

**  God  help  me.  I  believe  I  have  mind  enough  to  be  what  I  mean 
to ;  but  whatever  I  am  or  have,  shall  be  given  to  God  and  my  fel- 
low-men ;  and  then,  Grace,  your  brother  in  heaven  will  rejoice  over 
me." 

"  I  believe  he  does  now,"  said  Grace.  "  God  bless  you,  James ; 
I  don't  know  what  would  have  become  of  us,  if  you  had  not  been 
here. 

"  Yes,  you  will  live  to  be  like  him,  and  to  do  more  good,''^  she  added, 
her  face  brightenmg  as  she  spoke,  till  James  thought  she  really 

must  be  right. 

-#         #         »         »*»»»»»* 

It  was  five  years  after  this,  that  James  was  spoken  of  as  an 

eloquent  and  successful  minister  in  the  county  of  C ,  and  was 

settled  in  one  of  its  most  influential  villages.  Late  one  autuimi 
evening,  a  tall,  bony,  hard-favored  man  was  observed  making  his 
way  into  the  outskirts  of  the  place. 

"  Halloa,  there  ! "  he  called  to  a  man  over  the  other  side  of  the 
fence ;  "  what  town  is  this  ere  ?  " 

"It's  Farmington,  sir." 

"Well,  1  Avant  to  know  if  you  know  any  thmg  of  a  boy  of  mine 
that  lives  here?" 

"  A  boy  of  yours  ?  —  who  ?  " 

"Why,  I've  got  a  boy  here,  thitf's  living  on  the  toion;  and  I 
thought  I'd  jest  look  him  up."  ' 

"  I  don't  know  any  boy  that's  livin'  on  the  town :  what's  his  name  ?  " 

"  Why,"  said  the  old  man,  pushing  his  hat  off  from  his  forehead, 
"  I  believe  they  call  him  James  Benton."  if, 

"James  Benton!  vrhy,  that's'our  minister's  name." 


-  ,•»♦ 


A   NEW    ENGLAND    SKOTCH.  47 

"  O,  wal,  I  believe  he  is  the  miuister,  come  to  think  on't.  He's  a 
boy  o'  mine,  tho*.     VVliere  does  he  hve  ?  " 

"In  tliat  white  house,  that  you'see  set  back  from  the  road  there, 
with  all  those  trees  round  it." 

At  this  instant,  a  tall,  manly-looking  person  approached  from  b^"- 
hiud.  Have  we  not  seen  that  face  before  ?  It  is  a  touch  graver 
than  of  old,  and  its  luies  have  a  more  thoughtful  significlfece ;  but 
all  the  vivacity  of  James  Benton  spai'kles  in  that  quick  smile,  as  his 
eye  falls  on  the  old  man. 

"  I  thought  you  could  not  keep  away  from  us  long,"  said  he,  with 
the  prompt  cheerfulness  of  his  boyhood,  and  laying  hold  of  both 
Uncle  Tim's  hands. 

They  approached  the  gate ;  a  bright  face  glances  past  the  win- 
dow, and  in  a  moment,  Grace  is  at  the  door. 

«  Father !  dear  father ! " 

"  You'd  better  make  believe  be  so  glad,"  said  Uucle  Tun,  his  eye 
glistening  as  he  spoke.  ■' 

"  Come,  come,  father ;  I'm  used  to  authority  in  these  days,"  said 
Grace,  drawing  him  towards  the  house ;  "  so  no  disrespectful 
epeeches  ;  and  now  I  shall  fall  upon  and  seize  this  great  goat,  and 
away  with  your  hat,  and  then  you  must  sit  down  in  this  great  chair." 

"So,  hoi  Miss  Grace,"  said  Uncle  Tim;  "you  ai-e  at  your  old 
tricks,  ordering  round  as  usual.  Well,  if  I  must,  I  must"  So  dov\p 
he  sat.  ,  ^j  ^   ^ 

"  Father,"  said  Grace,  as  he  was  leaving  them,  after  a*iew  days' 
stay,  "it's  thanksgiving  day  next  month,  and  you  and  mother  must 
come  and  stay  with  us." 

Accordingly,  the  following  month  found  Aunt  Sally  and  Uncle 
Tim  by  the  minister's  fireside,  delighted  witnesses  of  the  thanks- 
giving presents  which  a  willing  people  were  pouring  in;  and 
the  next  day  they  had  once  more  the  pleasure  of  seeing  a  son  of 
theirs  in  the  sacred  desk,  and  hearing  a  sermon  that  every  body  said 
was  the  "  best  he  ever  preached  ; "  and  it  is  to  be  remarked,  by  tho 
by,  that  this  was  the  standing  commentary  on  all  James's  discourses ; 
BO  that  it  was  evident  tliat  he  was  "  going  on  unto  perfection." 

"  There's  a  great  deal  that's  worth  havin'  in  this  ere  life,  a'ter  all,"  • 
said  Uncle  Tim,  as  he  sat  musing  over  the  coals  of  the  bright  even- 
'n$H  fire  of  that  day,  "  that  is,  if  we'd  only  take  it  when  the  Lord  »^» 
lays  it  in  our  way." 

_  "  Yes,"  said  James ;  "  and  let  us  only  take  it  as  ice  sh)idcl.,  and  this 
life  will  bo  cBl^fulness,  and  tlie  uext  fulness  of  joy."  —  Mrs.  H.  E. 
Beecher  Slowe. 


-2^  MAN'S  DOUBLE  DUTY. 

"As  I  am  a  compound  of  soul  and  body,  I  consider  myself  aa 
obliged  to  a  double  scheme  of  duties ;  and  think  I  have  not  fulfilled 
tlie  business  <tf  the  day,  when  I  do  not  thus  employ  the  one  in 
labor  and  exorcise,  as  well  as  the  other  in  study  and  contempla- 
tion." —  Addison. 


48  lib: 


FAMILY    VISITOR. 


GALEN'S  EXPERIENCE.  ^ 

This  distinguished  individual,  (says  the  Journal  of  Health,)  who 
wrote  so  much  on  the  different  branches  of  medicine,  received 
from  the  Roman  emperor  a  medal  with  an  honorable  inscription, 
the  meaning  of  which  was.  The  chief  of  the  Romans  to  the  chief  of 
physicians.  Conscious,  from  the  strength  of  his  own  passions,  of 
their  ample  sway  over  the  body  and  its  healthful  movements,  he 

{)rescribed  to  himself  a  rule  to  which  he  adhered  during  a  long 
ifetime,  viz.,  never  to  get  irritated,  or  even  to  raise  his  hand  to  a  slave. 
He  was  born  with  an  iniu-m  constitution,  and  aJfHicted  in  his  youth 
with  many  and  severe  illnesses ;  but  having  arrived  at  the  age  of 
twenty-eight,  and  finding  that  tliere  were  sure  rules  for  preserving 
health,  he  obseiv^ed  them  so  carefully,  that  he  never  labored  under 
any  distemper  from  that  time,  except  occasionally  a  slight  feverish 
complaint  for  a  single  day,  owing  to  the  fetigue  which  attending 
the  sick  necessarily  brought  on  him.  By  this  means  he  passed  his 
hundredth  year.  His  advice  is  clear  and  direct.  "I  beseech  all 
persons,"  says  he,  "  not  to  degrade  themselves  to  a  level  with  the 
brutes,  or  the  rabble,  by  eating  and  drinking  promiscuously  what- 
ever pleases  then-  palates,  or  by  indulging  their  appetites  of  every 
kind.  But  whether  they  understand  physic  or  not,  let  them  consult 
their  reason,  and  observe  what  agrees  and  what  does  not  agree 
with  them,  that,  like  wise  men,  they  may  adhere  to  the  use  of  such 
things  as  conduce  to  their  health,  and  forbear  every  thing  which  by 
their  own  exi)erience  they  find  to  do  them  hurt;  and  let  them  be 
assured,  that  by  a  diligent  observation  and  practice  of  this  ride, 
they  may  enjoy  a  good  share  of  health,  and  seldom  stand  in  need 
"Jfif  physic  or  physicians." 


ABSTEMIOUS  DIET  OF  A  TRAVELLER. 

Burckhardt,  describing  his  journey  through  the  deserts  of  AraRa, 
uses  the  following  language :  — 

"  The  provision  of  my  companions  consisted  oidy  of  flourjjS^be^ 
sides  flour,  I  carried  some  butter  and  dried  leben,  (akmd  of  cheese,) 
which,  when  dissolved  in  water,  forms  not  only  a  refreshing  bever- 
age, but  is  much  recommended,  as  a  preservative  of  health,  when 
travelling  in  summer.  These  were  our  only  provisions.  During 
the  journey  we  did  not  sup  till  after  sunset,  and4|s  breakfasted  in 
the  morning  upon  a  piece  of  dry  bread,  whicbiSpb  baked  in  the^ 
ashes  the  preceding  evening,  without  either  salt  or  leaven.  ^  The 
frugality  of  these  Bedouins  (Arabs  of  the  desert)  is  indeed  without 
example.  My  companions,  who  wa^^ked  at  least  fi^  houra^fevery 
day,supported  themselves  for  four-iaid-twenty  hou^with  a  piece 
of  dry,  black  bread,  of  about  a  pound  and  a  half  in  weight,  without 


CLOTHING    OP    CHILDREN.  •- T  49 

any  other  kind  of  nourishment  I  endeavored,  as  much  as  possible, 
to  imitate  tJiis  abstemiousness,  being  already  convinced,  trom  ex- 
perience, that  it  is  the  best  preservative  against  the  effects  of  such  a 
journey." 


CLOTHD^G  OF  CHILDREN.. 

The  fact  cannot  be  too  often  repeated,  nor  can  it  be  too  seriously 
urged  upon  parents,  that  tlie  foundation  of  a  graceful  and  just  pro- 
portion in  the  various  parts  of  the  body  must  be  laid  in  infancy.  A 
light  dreas,  which  gives  freedom  to  tlie  functions  of  life  and  action, 
is  tlie  only  one  adapted  to  permit  perfect,  unobstructed  growth ; 
the  young  fibres,  unconstrained  by  obstacles  imposed  by  art,  will 
shoot  forth  harmoniously  into  the  form  which  nature  intended. 
The  garments  of  children  should  be  in  every  respect  perfectly  easy, 
so  as  not  to  impede  the  freedom  of  their  movements  by  bands  or 
ligatures  upon  the  chest,  the  loins,  the  legs,  or  arms.  With  such 
liberty,  the  muscles  of  the  tnmk  and  limbs  will  gradually  assume 
the  fine  swell  and  development  which  nothing  short  of  uncon- 
strained exercise  can  ever  produce.  The  body  will  turn  easily  and 
gracefully  upon  its  firmly-poised  base ;  the  chest  will  rise  in  noble 
and  healthy  expanse,  and  the  whole  figure  will  assume  that  perfect- 
ness  of  form,  with  which  beauty,  useililness,  and  health,  are  so  in- 
timately coimected.  —  Journal  of  HeaUh. 


THE  MAN   OF  LEISURE. 

"  YouHl  please  not  to  forget  to  ask  the  place  for  me,  sir,"  said  a 
pale,  blue-eyed  boy,  as  he  brushed  the  coat  of  the  Man  of  Leisure, 
at  bis  lodgings. 

"  Certainly  not,"  said  Mr.  Inklin ;  "I  shall  be  going  that  way  in  a 
day  or  two." 

"  Did  you  ask  for  the  place  for  me  yesterday  ?  "  said  the  pale  boy, 
on  the  following  day,  with  a  quivering  lip,  as  he  performed  tlie 
same  office. 

"  No,"  was  the  answer.     "  I  was  busy,  but  1  will  to-day." 

"  God  help  my  poor  mother,"  murmured  the  boy,  and  gazed  list- 
lessly on  the  cent  Mr.  Inklin  laid  in  his  hand. 

The  boy  went  home.  He  ran  to  the  hungry  children  with  the 
loaf  of  bread  he  had  earned  by  brushing  the  gentlemen's  coats  at 
the  hotel.  They  shouted  with  joy,  and  his  mother  held  out  her 
emaciated  liand  for  a  portion,  t^Aile  a  sickly  smile  flitted  across  his 
face.  • 

5 


50  '"-  THE    FAMILY    VISITOR, 

"  Mother,  dear,"  said  the  boy,  « Mr.  Inklin  thinks  he  can  get  nie 
the  place,  and  I  shall  have  three  meals  «  day;  only  think,  mother, 
three  meals !  and  it  won't  take  me  three  minutes  to  run  home  and 
share  it  with  you." 

The  morning  came,  and  the  pale  boy's  voice  trembled  with 
eagerness  as  he  asked  Mr.  Inklin  if  he  had  ajiplied  for  the  place. 

"Not  jipt,"  said  the  Man  of  Leisure ;  "but  there  is  time  enough." 

The  ceiit  that  morning  was  wet  with  tears.  Another  morning 
arrived. 

"It  is  very  thoughtless  in  the  boy  to  be  so  late,"  said  Mr.  Inklin. 
"  Not  a  soul  here  to  brush  my  coat ! "  * 

The  child  came  at  length,  his  face  swollen  with  weeping. 

"I  am  sony  to  disappoint  you,"  said  the  Man  of  Leisure;  "but 
the  place  in  Mr.  C 's  store  was  taken  up  yesterday." 

The  boy  stopped  brushing,  and  burst  afresh  into  tears.  "  I  don't 
care  now,"  said  he,  sobbing,  "  we  may  as  well  starve.  Mother  is 
dead." 

The  Man  of  Leisure  was  shocked,  and  he  gave  the  boy  a  doUai*. 

Mr.  Inklin  was  taken  ill.  He  had  said  often  that  he  thought 
religion  might  be  a  good  thing,  and  he  meant  to  look  into  it.  An 
anxious  friend  brought  a  clergyman  to  him.  He  spoke  tenderly, 
but  seriously,  to  the  sufferer,  of  eternal  truths. 

"  Call  to-morrow,"  said  the  Man  of  Leisure,  "  and  we  will  talk 
about  these  matters." 

That  night  the  Man  of  Leisure  died. 


RETRENCHMENT. 

.  "  Why,  Dick,"  said  Beau  Shatterly  to  his  friend,  Abel  Drugget, 
while  standing  in  front  of  the  Astor  House,  "why,  Dick,  hang 
me  if  your  coat  ain't  scoured,"  examining  the  article  closely  with 
his  eye-giass.  "Yes,"  says  Abel,  "it  is  scoured.  Having  nearly 
arranged  my  books  and  papers  at  the  counting-house,  and  com- 
promised with  my  creditors,  I  determined  to  hold  a  commission 
over  my  wardrobe  and  other  domestic  matters,  and  turned  out 
three  .trunks,  the  capital  of  better  and  more  extravagant  days,  and 
overhauled  the  invoice,  which  proved  to  be  quite  profitable,  I  assure 
you ;  here,  it  is  true,  a  coat  wanted  a  cuff;  there  a  panty  required 
a  button ;  and  what  with  dusting,  brushing,  scouring,  mending, 
darning,  and  so  forth,  I  find  myself  provided  for  a  whole  twelve- 
month and  more,  when  I  hope  to  resume  specie  payments." 
"Well,  then,"  said  Beau  Shatterly,  "you  have  commenced  on  the 
refoiTn  system."  "To  be  sure  I  have.  I  cursed  old  Jackson  until 
I  was  tired ;  abused  Van  Buren  heartily ;  prayed  that  some  patriot 
would  lynch  Kendall,  Blair,  and  Benton,  and  when  tired  of  suffer- 
ing, cursing,  ranting,  raving,  and  so  forth,  I  determuied  to  endure 
all  without  a  murrauir ;  to  cut  off  iftvery  expense,  and  thus  secure 


RETRENCHMENT.  "  51 

* 

myself  against  all  future  disaster.  When  the  storm  shall  have 
passed,  I  siiall  be  ready  agaui  to  set  sail,  with  a  diminished  cargo, 
and  a  weather-beaten  ship,  it  is  true,  but  I  hope  with  the  needful 
to  pay  all.  This,  you  will  say,  was  a  wise  determination,  and  we 
should  all  act  upon  it."  "O,  to  be  sure,"  said  Beau  Shatterly,  "this 
economy  and  retrenchment,  as  you  call  iy  is  all  mighty  fine  and 
clever,  but  it  is  confoundedly  inconvenient  to  us  gentlemen;  the 
deuce  fly  away  with  cotton  ^ud  rum  puncheons,  and  all  such  games 
at  hazard,  which  compel  us  to  wear  a  scoured  coat,  and  touch  our 
hats  to  parvenus  of  the  day.  Why,  Abel,  now  I  think  of  it,  when  1 
dined  with  you  last  Sunday,  Polly  Watts,  the  chambermaid,  waited 
upon  us,  and  you  gave  me  claret  at  $4  per  dozen,  instead  of  Gil 
Davis's  superb  Nuptial  Champaigne.  Why,  man,  this  is  iiiirly  cut- 
ting off  the  supplies."  "  Aha,  you  found  that  out,  did  you  ?  Yes,  it 
is  all  true  ;  I  drmnmed  up  my  troops,  and  called  an  inspection  of 
the  forces  one  fine  sunny  morning  last  week.  '  Polly  Smallfry,'  says 
I  to  the  cook,  'what  wages  do  you  receive.'"  'Eight  dollars  a 
month,  and  three  for  Patty  the  scullion.'  'You  must  take  six, 
Polly,'  says  I,  « and  dismiss  the  scullion.'  '  I  can't,  no  how  sum- 
dever,  take  less.'  'Then  your  services  are  no  longer  required.' 
'Mimmy,  how  much  do  you  receive  as  chambermaid?'  'Seven 
dollars.'  ♦  You  must  come  down  to  five.'  '  I  sha'n't  do  no  .such 
thing,  sir,  unless  you  will  find  me  a  silk  dress,  a  cape,  and  a  Tuscan 
bonnet'  'Can't  do  it,  Mimmy,  so  you  must  go.'  'Dick,  1  owe 
you  a  month's  wages  as  coachman  ;  here  it  is,  and  a  recommenda- 
tion for  honesty  and  capacity.'  'Why,  sir,  do  you  give  up  the 
coach?'  'Yes,  I  keep  an  onmibus  now.'  'Bob,  the  waiter,  you 
are  a  good  fellow,  but  as  you  have  managed  my  marketing  for  six 
years,  and  made  all  my  purchases,  I  take  it  for  granted  that  you 
have  laid  up  a  snug  little  sum ;  you  are  what  I  call  comfortable.' 
'  Pretty  well,  sir,  to  do  in  the  woj-ld.  Polly  Smallfry  and  I  talk  of 
setting  up  a  Welsh  rabbit-house  in  Thames  Street,  next  May.' 

"  Thus  I  went  through  my  household  troops,  and  soon  placed  the 
whole  concern  on  the  peace  establishment.  Afterwards,  my  wife 
and  I  mounted  to  the  garret,  and  under  the  eaves  of  the  house  we 
found  three  hundred  bottles  of  Madeira  wine,  thirty  years  old  ; 
besides  one  pipe  that  had  been  twice  to  India,  four  quarter  casks  of 
pale  Sherry,  two  of  old  Port,  and  ten  cases  of  Lynch's  Chateau 
Morgeaux,  which  lay  snug  in  the  counter  cellar.  '  Wife,'  says  I,  'this 
is  too  much  of  a  fine  article  to  keep  in  these  times  ;  so  1  will  send 
for  Duncan  Pell,  to  taste  —  to  arrange  — to  set  up,  and  knock  down.' 
And  it  was  done.  Pursuing  our  search  for  superfluities,  we  eji- 
countered  lots  of  silver  forks,  silver  tureens,  silver  waiters,  silver 
plateaus,  silver  pitchers,  magnificent  chuia  dinner-sets,  exquisite  cut 
glass,  superb  paintings  by  Rafael,  Rubens,  Tintorretta,  &c.,  &;c. ; 
pier  and  mantel  glasses,  almost  as  large  and  as  lon^  as  a  church 
door.  '  Mary,'  says  I, '  say  the  word  —  can  you  part  wifli  these  things 
without  a  sigh  ? '  « Willingly,  cheerfully,'  said  t^ho  with  a  smile,  a  kind 
look,  and  a  stpieeze  of  the  hand.  "  How  patlietic ! "  said  Shatterly ; 
"  why,  really,  friend  Abel,  I  must  take  a  lesson  or  two  from  you 
when  I  fail,  split  me."    « Now  take  your  eyes  off  the  ladies,  will 


52  THE    FAMILY    VISITOR.  * 

you,  and  look  over  this  memorandura  of  the  sum  total  of  facilities 
raised  by  these  movables. 

"Carriage  and  Pair,  $1200;  Barouche,  150;  Buggy,  100;  Slei<rh, 
60;  Pony,  70;  Coach  Dogs,  40;  Wines,  3,200 ;  Plate,  1,500;  China 
and  Glass,  500;  Paintings,  1,400;  Looking-Glasses,  800.  Total. 
$9,020. 

"Here's  raising  the  wind  for  you,  and  without  missing  it,  my  fine 
fellow;  and  do  you  wish  to  know  what  I  have  done  with  this 
money  ?  bought  a  snug  farm  of  sixty  acres,  neat  house,  good  garden, 
outhouses,  &c.,  not  many  miles  from  the  city,  settled  it  on  my  wife 
and  young  ones,  and  shall  plant  my  com  and  potatoes,  raise  my 
own  pigs  and  poultry,  milk  my  cows,  churn  my  butter,  bake  my 
bread,  and  lay  my  own  eggs ;  and  when  the  storm  is  over,  I  shall, 
I  hope,  be  found  again  in  my  roundabout,  selling  goods  in  mod- 
eration, at  short  credits  and  sure  profits.  So,  Shatterly,  my  boy,  hold 
up  your  finger  to  that  omnibus  driver,  and  let  him  take  me  home 
to  early  tea." 


TOM  TOWSON. 

Tom  was  poor,  and  had  but  a  sorry  education ;  but  he  was  very 
quick  to  learn,  and  some  said  tliat  Tom  had  the  cleai-est  head  in 
the  country.  Tom  lived  on  Poverty  Plantation,  as  he  called  it,  with 
old  widow  Towson,  his  mother,  and  the  farm,  which  was  small,  was 
all  they  had  between  them.  The  fact  is,  Tom  was  a  handsome  fel- 
low, in  homespun  or  broadcloth.  One  cloudy  aflernoon,  Tom  went 
dovra  into  Silver  Valley,  to  see  old  Ridgely  about  a  division  line  on 
Joe  Gibson's  plat  of  Poverty  Plantation. 

A  storm  came  on  just  as  he  drew  up  opposite  Col.  Ridgely's  lano 
gate.  Ridgely  was  a  proud  old  chap  —  rich  too  —  and  report  said 
that  his  daughter  Lucy  was  very  handsome.  Now,  Lucy  had  been 
brought  up  in  the  best  of  style,  and  was  a  high  lady  in  the  neighbor- 
hood. Some  said  that  she  had  refused  several  capital  offers ;  but 
that's  neither  here  nor  there,  as  Tom,  you  know,  could  not  think 
of  her. 

Well,  the  storm  raged,  and  in  rides  Tom  —  hooks  his  horse  to  tin 
apple  tree  —  goes  up  the  wide  steps,  and  ends  with  a  loud  knock  at 
the  door.  Jim  Squirrel  opened  the  door,  an  old  negro,  who  had 
carried  water  to  Tom's  father,  when  he  (Tom's  father,)  cradled  in 
Ridgely's  green  fields. 

«  The  colonel  in  ?  " 

"Yes,  sir;  come  in,"  was  the  ready  response. 

Tom  was  led  into  a  large,  old-fashioned  parlor,  where  he  found 
the  colonel  reading,  his  wife  sewing,  and  his  daughter  writing. 
The  old  man  nodded,  without  rising,  and  told  Tom  to  sit  down ; 
while  the  old  lady  very  reservedly  drew  her  chair  closer  to  the  wall. 
Tom  felt  a  little  curious.    The  daughter,  too,  threw  two  or  three 


DEFENCE    OF   THE    NORTH,     ,  -  53 

beautiful  glances  at  him,  which  made  him  feel  still  more  curious. 
He  made  so  many  blunders  in*' telling  his  business,  that  a  kind  smile 
begun  to  show  itself  upon  the  laces  of  all  in  the  room,  which  en- 
couraged Tom,  who  instantly  recovered  his  self-possession,  and 
added  to  their  mirth  by  many  intentional  errors  and  oddities. 

"  Colonef,"  said  Tom,  "  it  is  quite  out  of  the  question  for  us  to 
settle  this  now." 

"  Why  so  ?  "  inquired  the  colonel. 

"On  account  of  your  daughter,  sir,"  replied  Tom. 

"My  daughter !"  returned  the  colonel,  astonished;  "pray,  what 
has  she  to  do  witli  it  ?"  #  ^^ 

"  Why,"  added  Tom,  "  she  has  knocked  me  into  a  cocked  hat 
with  those  black  eyes  of  hers." 

The  old  lady  drew  up,  although  she  could  not  suppress  a  smile, 
while  the  daughter  blushed,  in  spite  of  her  attempts  to  laugh  con- 
temptuously. As  for  the  old  colonel,  he  was  so  astonished  at  Tom's 
impudence,  that  for  a  while  he  lost  the  use  of  his  tongue.  They  all 
looked  at  Tom  in  silence  ;  and,  in  the  mean  time,  they  remarked 
his  fine  figure,  high  forehead,  and  intelligent  eye  ;  while  the  iiTe- 
sistible  good  humor  of  his  countenance  entirely  disarmed  the  colo- 
nel, who  burst  out  with  a  hearty  laugh  at  Lucy.  Miss  Lucy  curled 
her  sweet  lip  into  a  sort  of  good-humored  scorn,  and  hastily  with- 
drew. 

The  next  thing  we  see,  is  Tom  in  his  homespun,  seated  at  the 
supper  table,  delighting  the  colonel  with  his  droll  stories,  compli- 
menting the  daughter,  and  flattering  the  old  lady.  The  old  lady  put 
a  plenty  of  sugar  in  Tom's  tea,  and  Miss  Lucy  was  a  full  half  hour 
in  drinking  one  cup. 

Tom  took  leave  shortly  after  supper. 

"  Plague  take  the  fellow ! "  cried  the  old  man,  as  Tom  rode  out 
into  the  lane,  and  the  tears  of  joy  still  stood  in  his  eye. 

"  He  is  quite  handsome,"  quietly  remarked  the  old  lady. 

"  Not  he,"  rejoined  Miss  Lucy ;  and  a  few  mouths  after  she  was 
Tom's  wife.  —  Scenes  in  the  West, 


DEFENCE  OF  THE  NORTH. 

■  While  the  bill,  imposing  additional  duties  on  certain  public  ofiB- 
cers,  as  depositaries  of  the  public  moneys,  was  under  consideration, 
at  the  extra  session  of  Congress,  in  1837,  Mr.  Pickens,  of  South 
Carolina,  attempted  to  draw  a  parallel  between  southern  slaves  and 
northern  laborers,  intimating  that  the  latter  were  the  subjects  of 
ownership,  as  well  as  the  former ;  and,  by  way  of  oflTset  to  the  oper- 
ations of  abolitionists,  he  threatened  to  preach  insurrection  to 
northern  laborers.  To  which  Mr.  Natlor,  of  Pennsylvania,  said  — 
I  am  a  northern  laborer.  Ay,  sir,  it  has  been  my  lot  to  have  in- 
herited, as  my  only  patrimony,  at  the  early  age  of  nine  years,  nothing 
but  naked  orphanage  and  utter  destitution ;  houseless  and  homeless, 
5* 


54  THE    FAMILY    VISITOR. 

fatherless  and  penniless,  1  was  obliged,  from  that  day  forward,  to 
earn  my  daily  bread  by  my  daily  laboi^  And  now,  sir,  when  I  take 
my  seat  in  this  hall,  as  the  free  representative  of  a  free  people,  am  I 
to  be  sneered  at  as  a  northern  laborer,  and  degraded  into  a  compari- 
son with  the  poor,  oppressed,  and  suiFering  negro  slave  ?  Is  such 
the  genius  and  spirit  of  our  institutions  ?  If  it  be,  then  did  our 
fathers  fight,  and  bleed,  and  struggle,  and  die,  in  vain ! 

But,  sir,  the  gentleman  has  misconceived  the  spirit  and  tendency 
4»of  northern  institutions.  He  is  ignorant  of  northern  character. 
He  has  forgotten  the  history  of  his  country.  Preach  insurrection  to 
the  northern  laborers !  Preach  insurrection  to  me !  Who  are  the 
northern  laborei*  ?  The  history  of  your  country  is  their  history. 
The  renown  of  your  country  is  their  renown.  The  brightness  of 
their  doings  is  emblazoned  on  its  every  page.  Blot  fi-om  your 
annals  the  deeds  and  the  doings  oP  northern  laborers,  and  the  history 
of  your  country  presents  but  a  universal  blank. 

Sir,  who  was  he  that  disarmed  the  Thunderer,  wrested  from  his 
grasp  the  bolts  of  Jove,  calmed  tlie  troubled  ocean,  became  the  cen- 
tral sun  of  the  philosophical  system  of  his  age,  shedding  his  bright- 
ness and  effulgence  on  the  whole  civilized  world ;  whom  the  great 
and  mighty  of  the  earth  delighted  to  honor ;  who  participated  in  the 
achievement  of  your  independence  ;  prominently  assisted  in  mould- 
ing your  free  institutions,  and  the  beneficial  effects  of  whose  wis- 
dom will  be  felt  to  the  last  moment  of  "  recorded  time  "  ?  Who,  sir, 
I  ask,  was  he  ?  A  northern  laborer  —  a  Yankee  tallow-chandler's 
son  —  a  printer's  runaway  boy ! 

And  who,  let  me  ask  the  honorable  gentleman,  who  was  he  that, 
in  the  days  of  our  revolution,  led  forth  a  northern  army  —  yes,  an 
army  of  northern  laborers  —  and  aided  the  chivalry  of  South  Caro- 
lina in  their  defence  against  British  aggression,  drove  the  spoilers 
from  their  firesides,  and  redeemed  her  fair  fields  from  foreign  in- 
vaders ?  Who  was  he  ?  A  northern  laborer,  a  Rhode  Island  black- 
smith —  the  gallant  General  Greene  —  who  left  his  hammer  and  his 
forge,  and  went  forth  conquering  and  to  conquer,  in  the  battles  for 
our  independence !  And  will  you  preach  insurrection  to  men  like 
these  ? 

Sir,  our  country  is  full  of  the  achievements  of  northern  laborers ! 
Where  is  Concord,  and  Lexington,  and  Princeton,  and  Trenton, 
and  Saratoga,  and  Bunker  Hill,  but  in  the  north?  And  what,  sir, 
has  shed  an  imperishable  renown  on  the  never-dying  names  of 
those  hallowed  sj)ots,  but  the  blood  and  the  struggles,  the  high 
darhig  and  patriotism,  and  sublime  courage  of  northern  laborers  ? 
The  whole  north  is  an  everlasting  monument  of  the  freedom,  virtue, 
intelligence,  and  indomitable  independence  of  northern  laborers ! 
Go,  sir,  go  pi'each  insurrection  to  men  like  these ! 

The  fortitude  of  the  men  of  the  north  under  intense  suffering,  for 
liberty's  sake,  has  been  almost  godlike !  History  has  so  recorded 
it  Who  comprised  that  gallant  army,  that,  without  food,  without 
pay,  shelterless,  shoeless,  penniless,  and  almost  naked,  in  that 
dreadful  winter  —  the  midnight  of  our  revolution — whose  wander- 
ings could  bo  traced  by  their  blopd-tracks  in  the  snow;  whom 


DEFENCE    OP   THE    NORTH.  55 

no  arts  could  seduce,  no  appeal  lead  astray,  no  suffering  disaffect ; 
but  who,  true  to  their  country  and  its  holy  cause,  continued  to  fight 
the  good  fight  of  liberty,  until  it  finally  triumphed?  Who,  sir,  were 
these  men  ?    Why,  northern  laborers ;  yes,  sir,  northern  laborers ! 

Who,  sir,  were  Roger  Sherman  and —  but  it  is  idle  to  enumerate.^ 
To  name  the  northern  laborers,  who  have  distinguished  themselves, 
and  illustrated  the  history  of  their  country,  would  require  days  of 
the  time  of  this  house.  Nor  is  it  necessary.  Posterity  will  do  them 
justice.     Their  deeds  have  been  recorded  in  characters  of  fire  ! 

And  such  are  the  working  men  of  the  north  at  this  time.  They 
have  not  degenerated ;  they  are,  in  all  respects,  worthy  of  their  in- 
telligent and  sturdy  sires.  Whose  blood  was  so  profusely  shed, 
during  the  last  war,  on  the  Canada  lines  —  but  that  of  the  northern 
laborers?  Who  achieved  the  glorious  victories  of  Peny  and 
RPDonough  on  the  lakes  —  but  the  northern  laborers  ?  Yes,  they 
"met  the  enemy  and  made  them  theirs."  Who,  sir,  have  made  our 
ships  the  models  for  all  Europe,  and  sent  forth,  in  the  late  war, 
those  gallant  vessels  that  gave  our  little  navy  the  first  place  in  the 
marine  annals  of  the  world,  and  covered  our  arms  on  the  ocean  in  a 
braze  of  glory  —  but  the  skill,  and  intellect,  and  patriotism  of  the 
northern  laborers  ?  And  who,  sir,  manned  these  vessels,  and  went 
forth,  and,  for  the  first  time,  humbled  the  British  lion,  on  the  ocean 

—  but  the  northern  laborers  ?  And  who,  sir,  was  he,  that  noble  tar, 
who,  wounded,  and  bleeding,  and  mangled,  and,  to  all  appearance, 
lifeless,  on  the  deck  of  one  of  our  ships,  on  hearing  that  the  flag  of 
the  enemy  had  struck,  and  that  victory  had  perched  on  the  proud 
banner  of  his  country —  raised  up  his  feeble,  mangled  form,  opened 
his  languid  eyes  once  more  to  the  light  of  heaven,  waved  his  palsied 
hand  round  his  head  in  token  of  his  joy,  and  fell  back  and  died. 
Who,  sir,  was  he  ?  Why,  a  northern  laborer  —  a  northern  laborer ! 
And  yet  these  men  are  the  slaves  of  the  north,  to  whom  the  hon- 
orable gentleman  is  about  to  preach  insurrection  ! 

I  appeal  to  the  representatives  of  Pennsylvania.  I  ask  you,  sirs, 
who  is  Joseph  Ritner  —  that  distinguished  man,  who,  at  this  very 
moment,  fills  the  executive  chair  of  your  great  state  ;  a  man,  who, 
in  all  that  constitutes  high  moral  and  intellectual  worth,  has  few 
superiors  in  this  country;  one  who  has  all  the  qualities  of  head 
and  heart  necessary  to  accomplish  the  great  statesman,  and  who 
possesses,  in  the  most  enlarged  degree,  all  the  elements  of  human 
greatness?  Who,  sirs,  is  he?  A  northern  laborer  —  a  Pennsyl- 
vania wagoner —  who,  for  years,  drove  his  team  from  Pittsburg  to 
Philadelphia,  "  over  the  mountain  and  over  the  moor,"  not  "whistling 
as  he  went  ?  "  no,  sir,  but  preparing  himselfj  then,  by  deep  cogita- 
tion, and  earnest  application,  for  the  high  destiny  which  the  future 
had  in  store  for  him.  And  who,  let  me  ask  the  same  gentlemen, 
who  is  James  Todd,  the  present  attorney  general  of  Pennsylvania  — 
distinguialied  for  the  extent  of  his  legal  acquirements,  for  the  com- 
prehensive energy  of  his  mind,  for  his  strength  of  argument,  and 
vigorous  elocution  ?    Who,  sir,  is  he  ?     He,  too,  is  a  northern  laborer 

—  a  Pennsylvania  wood-chopper  —  in  early  childhood,  a  destitute, 
desolate  orphan,  bound  out,  by  the  overseers  of  the  poor,  as  an  ap- 


36  THE    FAMILY    VISITOR. 

prentice  to  a  laborer !  These,  sir,  are  some  of  the  fruits  of  northern 
institutions ;  some  of  the  slaves  to  whom  the  honorable  gentleman 
will  have  to  preach  insurrection  ! 

Mr.  Chairman,  it  is  not  the  first  time  that  I  have  heard  a  parallel  run 
between  the  slaves  of  the  south  and  the  working  men  of  the  north. 
For  a  while,  sir,  that  parallel  was  made  as  to  the  relative  condition 
of  the  free  negroes  of  the  north  and  the  slaves  of  tlie  south.  Re- 
cently, however,  some  of  those  who  advocate  the  surpassing  excel- 
lence of  the  slave  institutions  of  the  south,  have  taken  a  bolder  and 
more  daring  stand.  Racking  their  brains  for  arguments  and  illus- 
trathsns,  to  justify  slaveiy  as  it  prevails  among  them,  they  have 
hazarded  tlie  bold  proposition,  that  slavery  exists  in  eveiy  countiy ; 
and  that,  in  the  north,  the  operatives,  though  nominally  free,  are,  in 
fact,  the  slaves  of  tlie  capitalists.  Such  a  proposition  is  monstrous. 
I  tell  you,  sir,  gentlemen  deceive  themselves.  They  slander  the 
free  institutions  of  their  countiy.  They  wrong  the  most  iutelligent 
and  enterprising  class  of  men  on  earth.  I  know  them  well ;  I  have 
long  been  associated  with  them.  I  have  seen  them  form  themselves 
into  libraries  and  other  associations,  for  intellectual  improvement.  I 
have  seen  them  avail  themselves  of  every  leisure  moment  for  mental 
culture.  I  have  seen  them  learned  in  the  languages,  skilled  in  the 
sciences,  and  informed  in  all  that  is  necessary  to  give  elevation  to 
the  character  of  man,  and  to  fit  him  for  the  high  destinies  for  which 
he  was  designed.  Let  the  honorable  gentleman  go  among  them, 
and  he  will  find  them  in  all  respects  equal  to  those  who  make  it 
their  boast  that  they  oivn  all  the  laborers  in  the  south.  Yes,  sir,  as 
well  qualified  to  become  honorable  rulers  of  a  free  people  —  having 
heads  fitted  for  the  highest  councils,  and  fearless  hearts  and  sinewy 
arms  for  the  enemies  of  this  great  nation. 

Mr.  Chairman,  I  call  upon  gentlemen  of  the  north  to  bear  witness 
to  the  truth  of  what  I  have  said ;  I  call  upon  them  to  look  back  to 
the  days  of  their  childhood,  and  say  whom  they  have  seen  attain 
honor,  distinction,  wealth,  and  afiluence.  Are  they  not  the  work- 
ing, the  industrious  parts  of  society  ?  And  do  not  the  institutions 
of  the  north  necessarily  lead  to  such  results?  Sir,  when  I  pause, 
for  a  moment,  and  behold  what  ai-e  now  tlie  little,  destitute  playmates 
of  my  childhood,  I  am  overwhelmed  with  astonishment.  Some  of 
them  have  gone  forth  from  their  homes,  become  drafters  and  signers 
of  declarations  of  independence,  founders  of  new  empires,  breakers 
of  the  chains  of  despotism  ;  and  the  earth,  even  in  their  youth,  has 
drunk  up  their  blood,  shed  willingly  in  the  cause  of  the  rights  of 
man.  Some  have  ministered  at  the  altar  of  their  divine  Master. 
Some  have  led  the  bar,  adorned  the  senate,  illustrated  the  judiciary ; 
and  others  have  wandered  in  the  flowery  field  of  literature,  trod  in 
the  cool,  tranquillizing  paths  of  philosophy,  delved  in  tlie  depths  of 
science,  and  compassed  the  world  with  their  enterprise.  In  a  word, 
civilization  has  no  pursuit  that  they  have  not  already  honored  and 
adorned.  And  yet  these  men  are  some  of  the  fruits  of  those  odious 
institutions,  against  which  the  eloquent  gentleman  has  undertaken 
.lis  crusade. 

Sir,  it  is  the  glory  of  the  northern  institutions,  that  they  give  to 


DEFENCE    OF   THE    NORTH.  .         57 

every  man,  poor  and  ricli,  high  and  low,  the  same  fair  play.  They 
place  tlie  honors,  emoluments,  and  distinctions  of  the  country,  be- 
fore him,  and  say,  "  Go,  run  your  race  for  the  prize  —  the  reward 
shall  encircle  the  brow  of  the  most  worthy."  Thus  it  is,  that  every 
one  feels  and  knows  that  he  has  a  clear  field  before  him ;  and  that^ 
with  industry,  prudence,  and  perseverance,  he  can  command  success 
in  any  honorable  undertaking.  He  knows  that  his  industry  is  his 
oum  ;  his  efforts  are  his  own ;  and  that  every  blow  he  strikes,  whilst  it 
redounds  to  his  oten  immediate  advantage,  contributes  also  to  the 
good  of  the  community,  and  the  glory  and  renown  of  his  country. 
All  honorable  employments  are  open  to  him;  the  halls  of  legislation 
are  open  to  him ;  the  bar  is  open  to  him  ;  the  fields  of  science  are 
before  him ;  there  is  no  barrier  between  him  and  the  object  of  his 
ambition  but  such  as  industry  and  perseverance  may  overcome. 

Look  at  the  workings  of  their  institutions  upon  the  appearance  of 
the  north.  Look  at  her  mighty  cities,  her  forests  of  masts,  her 
smiling  villages,  her  fertile  fields,  her  productive  mines,  her  numer- 
ous charities,  her  ten  thousand  improvements.  Behold  my  own,  my 
native  state.  Pennsylvania  is  intellectualized  under  their  auspices. 
Her  soil,  and  hills,  and  valleys,  and  rocks,  and  everlasting  moun- 
tains, live  and  breathe  under  the  animating  influence  of  her  intelli- 
gent and  hard-working  population ;  every  stream  feeds  its  canal ; 
every  section  of  country  has  its  railroad  ;  distance  is  annihilated ;  the 
flinty  ribs  of  her  rocky  mountains  are  driven  asunder ;  the  bowels 
of  the  earth  yield  forth  their  treasures,  and  the  face  of  the  earth 
blooms,  and  blossoms,  and  fructifies  like  a  paradise.  And  all  this,  all 
this  is  the  result  of  the  intelligence,  industry,  and  enterprise  of 
northern  laborers,  fostered  by  the  genial  influence  of  their  insti- 
tutions. 

Nor  are  their  efforts  confined  to  their  own  country  alone.  Their 
industry  and  enterprise  compass  the  whole  earth.  There  is  not  a 
wave  under  heaven  ihat  their  keels  have  not  parted  —  not  a  breeze 
ever  stirred  to  which  they  have  not  unfurled  the  starry  banner  of 
their  country.  Go  to  the  frozen  ocean  of  the  north,  and  you  will  find 
them  there ;  to  the  ocean  in  the  extreme  south,  and  you  will  find 
them  there.     Nature  has  no  difiiculty  that  they  have  not  overcome 

—  the  world  no  limit  that  they  have  not  attained. 

In  every  department  of  mind  do  the  institutions  of  the  north  exert 
a  wholesome,  a  developing  influence.  Sir,  it  was  but  a  few  days 
since,  that  you  saw  the  members  of  this  house  gathered  round  the 
electro-magnetic  machine  of  Mr.  Davenport  There  they  stood, 
mute  and  motionless;  beholding,  for  the  first  time,  the  secret, 
sublime,  and  mysterious  principles  of  nature  applied  to  mechanics ; 
and  there  was  the  machine,  visible  to  all  eyes,  moving  with  the 
rapidity  of  lightning,  without  any  apparent  cause.  But  the  genius 
that  made  the  application  of  this  sublime  and  mysterious  influence, 
who  is  he  t)ut  a  laboring,  hard-working  blacksmith  of  the  north  ? 

Sir,  where  do  learning,  literature,  and  science  flourish  —  but  in 
the  north  ?     Where  does  the  press  teem  with  the  products  of  mind 

—  but  in  the  north  ?     Where  are  the  scientific  institutions,  the  im- 
mense libraries,  rivalling  almost,  at  this  early  d.ny,  Europe's  vast 


SB  THE     FA3IILV    VISITOR. 

accumulations  —  but  in  the  north  ?  And  who,  sir,  gives  form,  and 
grace,  and  life,  and  proportion,  to  the  shapeless  marble  —  but  the 
sculptor  of  the  north?  Yes,  sir,  and  there  too  does  the  genius  of 
tlie  pencil  contribute  her  glowing  creations  to  the  stock  of  northern 
renown.  To  northern  handiwork  are  you  indebted  for  the  magnifi- 
cence of  this  mighty  capitol.  And  those  noble  historical  pieces, 
now  filling  the  pannels  of  the  rotunda,  which  display  the  beginning, 
progress,  and  consummation  of  your  revolution,  and  give  to  all  pos- 
terity tlie  living  foi-ms  and  breathing  countenances  of  the  fathers  of 
your  i-epublic;  they,  too,  ai"e  the  works  of  a  northern  ai'tist! 

But,  before  I  conclude  this  branch  of  my  subject,  let  me  make 
one  observation  that  I  had  almost  forgotten.  The  gentleman  seems 
to  think  that  our  workmen  must,  of  necessity,  be  the  passive  instru- 
ments of  our  capitalists.  His  idea  of  the  power  and  influence  of 
wealth,  controlling  the  very  destinies  of  the  man  who  labors,  must  be 
derived  from  the  institutions  of  his  own  generous  south  ;  where,  he 
frankly  avows,  that  the  capitalist  does  absolutely  own  the  laborers. 
His  views  are,  however,  utterly  inap[)licable  to  the  north.  Who  are 
the  northern  capitalists  of  to-day,  but  the  penniless  apprentices  of 
yesterday  ?  Sir,  in  the  north  there  is  scarcely  a  class  of  men  exist- 
ing exclusively  as  capitalists.  The  chai'acter  of  capitalist  and  laborer 
is  there  united  in  the  same  person.  In  ninety-nine  cases  out  of  a 
hundred,  he  who  is  a  capitalist  has  become  so  by  his  own  industry 
and  perseverance.  He  begins  as  a  humble  "  laborer  "  —  his  industry, 
virtue,  and  integrity,  his  only  capital.  He  gradually  accumulates. 
Every  day  of  toil  increases  his  means.  His  means  are  then  united  to 
his  labor,  and  he  receives  the  just  and  honest  profits  of  them  both. 
Thus  he  goes  on,  joining  his  accumulations  with  his  labor,  receiving 
the  profits  of  his  capital  and  his  toil,  scattering  the  fruits  of  his  efforts 
abroad  for  the  benefit  of  society,  living  in  manly  independence,  and 
laying  up  a  stock  of  comfort  and  enjoyment  for  his  declining  years. 
Such  was  the  rich  Girard,  the  "merchant  and  mariner,"  as  he 
styles  himself  in  his  last  will.  He  began  his  career  a  destitute 
cabin-boy.  And  such  are  the  capitalists  all  over  the  north.  They 
were  all  laborers  some  few  years  since  ;  and  the  humble  operative 
of  to-day  must  and  ivill  be  the  wealthy  capitalist  in  some  lew  years 
to  come  ;  and  so  far  are  the  institutions  of  the  north  from  retarding 
liis  advance,  that  they  encourage  him,  aid  him,  cheer,  cherish,  and 
sustain  him  in  his  onward  career. 


Yankee  Enterprise  and  Industry.  —  M.  Chevalier,  in  his  Let- 
ters on  North  America,  speaking  of  the  enterprise  and  industry  of 
the  New  Englanders,  says  — "  At  Baltimore  even  as  at  Boston,  in 
New  Orleans  as  at  Salem,  in  New  York  as  at  Portland,  if  they  cito 
you  a  merchant,  who,  by  intelligent  combinations,  has  realized  and 
preserved  a  large  fortune,  and  if  you  demand  whence  that  man  comes 
—  'It  is  a  Yankee,'  is  the  reply.  If|  in  the  south,  you  pass  before  a 
plantation  which  appears  better  regulated  than  all  the  others,  with 
fine  avenues,  and  the  habitations  of  the  negroes  better  arranged  and 
more  comfortable  — '  Ah ! '  says  one  to  you,  '  this  belongs  to  a  man 
from  New  England.' " 


*  Jt 

DEFENCE    OF   THE    NORTH.  59 

* 

Ini>kpendf,ncf,  of  Massachusetts.  —  It  has  been  long  main- 
tained that  the  South  holds  the  destiny  of  the  North  in  tlie  hollow 
of  her  hand.  Tlie  idea  is  truly  ridiculous.  We  have  seen  enough  of 
the  world,  in  l>oth  hemispheres,  to  be  convinced  that  energetic  and 
persevering  industry  is  more  to  be  depended  on  than  either  climate  ^ 
or  soil,  or  than  both,  though  favorably  combined,  in  the  race  of 
national  prosperity.  If  Massachusetts,  with  a  population  not  greater 
than  that  of  a  single  southern  state  —  North  Carolina,  for  instance, 
—  can  command  eighty-six  millions  of  dollars,  annually,  by  her 
manufacturing  industry  alone,  her  alleged  dependence  on  us  is  a 
matter  of  moonshine  and  absurdity,  which  should  not  be  counte- 
nanced by  citizens  of  common  rationality.  Let  us  cease,  therefore, 
to  believe  that  we  sustain  her,  and  that  she  must  perish  if  we  do 
not  smile  upon  her.  Wisdom  would  teach  us  to  imitate  her  in- 
dustry, and  folly  alone  will  direct  us  in  a  different  course.  —  JVew- 
btm  (A*.  C.)  Spectator.  

CoatPLiBfENT  TO  New  England.  —  The  following  beautiful  Com- 
pliment to  New  England  was  pronounced  by  the  Hon.  Wm.  B. 
Shefard,  of  North  Carolina,  in  the  course  of  a  speech  delivered 
in  the  United  States' House  of  Representatives  :  — 

"  A  few  summers  ago,  while  flying  from  the  demon  of  ill  health,  I 
visited  New  England.  I  found  her  towns  and  villages  crowded 
with  an  industrious  and  enterprising  population,  her  hills  and  valleys 
redolent  with  health,  prosperity,  and  contentment;  every  mind 
seemed  to  be  intent,  every  head  was  occupied ;  the  world  does  not 
contain  a  more  flourishing  community.  There  the  advantages  of 
education  are  extended  to  the  poorest  individual  in  society,  and  that 
society  receives  its  remuneration  in  his  sober,  industrious,  and 
economical  habits.  If  the  divine  Plato  were  alive,  he  would  no 
longer  draw  upon  his  imagination  for  a  specimen  of  a  perfect  re- 
public ;  he  would  there  find  a  community,  in  which  the  humblest 
mdividual  has  the  same  voice  with  his  most  wealthy  neighbor,  in 
laying  the  public  burdens  for  the  public  welfare.  I  asked  myself  if 
it  were  possible,  that  the  prosperity  of  this  people  could  be  the  hot- 
bed production  of  an  artificial  system,  or  rather  if  it  were  not  the 
result  of  a  long-continued  toil  —  of  an  industry  that  never  tired  — 
of  an  economy  that  never  slept.  I  looked  upon  the  scene  around 
me  with  no  feelings  of  murmuring  discontent — I  felt  the  more  re- 
joiced because  it  was  part  of  my  country." 


A   PEEP  INTO  THE  KITCHEN. 

"My  great  imcle,  one  of  the  early  settlers  in  New  York,  amuses 
himself,  in  his  green  old  age,  by  walking  leisurely  through  the 
streets  of  the  city,  to  observe  its  great  and  growing  importance,  and 
to  trace,  if  possible,  amidst  splendid  bouses  and  elegant  squares, 


tSU  THE    FAMILY    VISITOR. 

the  spots  on  which  his  favorite  cherry  trees  once  stood,  or  the  ponds 
of  fresh  water  in  whicli  he  angled  for  trout  He  is  an  acute 
obsei-ver  of  manners,  habits,  and  customs,  and  the  strengtli  of  his 
memory  enables  him  to  estimate  every  thing  of  the  present  day,  by 
comparison  with  former  times.  "  Hans,"  said  he  to  me  the  other 
day,  "  do  you  see  your  old  Aimty  there,  sitting  in  the  green  arm- 
chair, knitting  ?  She  has  not  altered  these  hfty  years  —  she  was 
once  younger,  to  be  sure,  and  so  was  I ;  but  we  have  observed  no 
alteration  in  each  other ;  as  we  began  life,  so  we  have  proceeded, 
and  so  we  hope  to  end  it  —  uniform,  industrious,  and  economical ; 
but,  Hans,  people  change  veiy  much  with  the  times.  Would  you 
believe  it,  last  night  I  was  in  a  passion  ?  "  "  No,"  said  I ;  "  in  a  passion  ? 
Impossible."  "  You  shall  hear,"  said  he.  "  Last  night,  about  ten 
o'clock,  as  I  was  sitting  with  my  specs  on,  reading  the  Evenmg 
Post,  —  mammy  sat  there  where  she  now  sits,  combing  Chequita,  the 
lai)-dog,  —  suddenly  I  heard  a  rat-tat-too  at  the  door.  "  Gemini ! " 
said  I,  "  here's  bad  news."  I  rose,  took  the  candle,  went  through  the 
hall,  and  opened  the  door,  when  a  lady,  elegantly  dressed,  entered. 
"  Good  evening,  madam,"  said  I,  bowing  to  the  ground  ;  '^  will  you  do 
me  the  honor  to  walk  into  the  parlor ;  it  is  quite  comfortable  ;  no  one 
ia  there  but  my  wife,  and  I  shall  be  happy  to  attend  to  any  business 
you  may  have  with  me."  To  my  dismay  and  astonishment,  she  in- 
terrupted me  with  a  loud  and  vulgar  laugh,  and  an  ejaculation  of 
"  Don't  you  know  me  ?"  1  lifted  the  candle  under  a  huge  black  bonnet, 
with  a  scoop  as  large  as  the  rim  of  a  butter  tub,  with  a  plume  of  black, 
nodding  feathers  dangling  on  the  top,  and  found  that  it  was  Polly 
Watkins,  my  cook.  "  Why,  Polly,"  says  I,  "  where  have  you  been, 
woman  ?  "  "  O,"  says  she,  brushing  by  me  with  an  air,  and  making 
for  the  kitchen  door ;  "  I've  been  at  a  party ! "  "A  party !  prodigious." 
I  returned  to  the  parlor,  took  my  seat  near  the  fire,  and  fell  musing. 
"  Ah !  Hans,  what  a  change  in  men,  and  women  also !  In  my  time, 
the  maids  were  a  different  order  of  nobility  than  they  are  now.  The 
first  maid  I  hired  came  from  Sopus :  her  name,  I  remember  well, 
was  Hannah  Snidiker.  You  remember  her,  too,  mammy  ;  she  was 
a  stout  Dutch  girl  of  twenty,  with  brawny  arms,  flesh  firm  as  fresh 
streaked  bass,  and  cheeks  as  broad  and  as  red  as  pulpit  cushions. 
She  wore  a  striped  linsey-woolsey  petticoat,  which  reached  grace- 
fully a  little  below  the  knee,  exhibiting  a  stout  and  well-turned  leg 
and  ankle,  and  a  foot  sufiiciently  expansive  to  sustain  her  portly 
figure,  she  had  on  black  leather  shoes,  thick  soles,  high  heels,  and 
covered  with  a  thumping  pair  of  brass  buckles,  which  looked  like 
burnished  gold.  She  was  the  girl  to  wash,  scour,  and  work.  We 
gave  her  five  poimds  a  year  wages,  and  she  laid  it  nearly  all  by. 
The  maids  generally  were  pretty  much  the  same  in  those  times ; 
they  were  always  at  home  ;  and  if  they  read,  it  was  a  page  or  two  in 
Thomas  Aquinas,  the  Pilgrim's  Progress,  or  Poor  Richard's  Almanac, 
with  a  chapter  in  the  Bible  on  Sunday.  They  allowed  no  man  to 
get  the  advantage  of  them,  if  resistance  could  prevent  it,  and  we 
were  never  at  a  loss,  in  those  times,  to  distinguish  the  maid  from 
the  mistress ;  but  now,  Hans,"  said  the  old  gentleman,  raising  his 
hands  and  eyes,  "  what  a  change  !     Polly  Watkins,  my  cook,  who 


^   PBBP   INTO   THE    KITCHEN.  .  CI 

is  up  to  her  elbows  in  grease  all  day,  drecBes  like  a  lady  of  fashion, 
and  hops  off  To  a  party  at  night.  The  other  day  I  accidentally 
strolled  into  the  chamber  of  my  god-daughter,  Magdalena;  and  be- 
fore the  glass  stood  that  pert  and  pretty  little  chambermaid,  Susan 
Augusta  Georgiana  Matilda  Willis.  I  paused  to  examine  her« 
movements  unseen.  She  emptied  a  considerable  portion  of  my 
god-daughter's  honey  water  into  her  hands,  which  s^e  rubbed 
through  her  fine,  glossy  hair,  using  the  brushes  and  combs  at  the 
same  time.  After  disposing  of  the  curls  in  the  most  tasty  style, 
she  arranged  her  beau-catchers,  beau-killers,  and  di'ops,  hi  a  very 
attractive  manner;  then,  seizing  a  coarse  towel,  she  wiped  her 
cheeks  with  considerable  violence,  to  give  them  a  color.  While 
these  ceremonies  were  progressing,  I  was  shielded  from  observa- 
tion by  a  part  of  the  festoons  and  drapery  of  the  bed,  and  stood  ui 
mute  astonishment,  leaning  my  chin  upon  my  silver-headed  cane, 
and  with  a  coimtenauce  '  more  in  sorrow  than  in  anger.'  Having 
accommodated  her  hair  and  cheeks,  the  young  wench  began  to  un- 
pin her  ruffles.  '  Gadzooks,'  says  I  to  myself,  '  I  hope  she  is  not  going 
to  undress  before  me ; '  for,  old  as  I  am,  Hans,  I  should  not  have 
liked  any  one  to  have  popped  in  upon  us.  Well,  Hans,  this  little 
fiUe-de-chambre  proceeded  to  make  up  her  toilet,  and  drew  from 

,  her  bosom  a  long,  wide,  misshapen  piece  of  black  whalebone,  an 
invention  to  make  women  hold  their  heads  up.  Just  at  that 
n)pment||nammy's  lap-dog  began  to  bark,  and  1  stole  softly  down 
into  the  parlor.  O  tenipora !  O  the  maids !  O  the  manners ! "  The 
old  gentleman  rapped  his  silver  snuff-box  pretty  hard,  and,  with  a 
grim  visage,  covered  his  nose  and  lips  with  rappee.  "Not  long 
ago,  Hans,"  said  he,  "I  pulled  off"  my  hat,  and  made  a  low  bow  to 
my  amiable  friend,  Mrs.  Rose-iii-Bloom,  in  Broadway ;  but,  alas !  it 
was  only  to  her  hat  and  shawl,  which  covered  the  slender  person 
of  her  maid,  Margeiy.  The  other  night,  when  I  visited  the  theatre, 
I  foimd  myself  comfortably  seated  in  the  dress  boxes,  between  a 
waiter  and  a  maid  of  one  of  our  flourishing  boarding-houses.  Now, 
Hans,  I  am  not  aristocratical ;  and  well-behaved  persons  are  enti- 
tled to  respect,  whatever  may  be  their  condition  in  life ;  but  look  at 
the  evil  example  of  maids,  receiving  five  or  ten  dollars  per  month, 
dressing  extravagantly,  and  dashing  like  people  of  fashion.  How 
they  contrive  to  manage  it  with  so  slender  an  income,  is  to  me  ex- 
traordinary; they  must  have  'funds  available.'  Yesterday,  Polly 
Watkins,  Susan,  and  Quash,  called  upon  me,  as  a  committee  from 
the  kitchen,  to  remontrate  upon  the  compulsory  process  of  using 
Havana  instead  of  loaf  sugar  in  their  tea;  and  they  absolutely 

.begged  leave  to  present  a  bill  for  the  establishment  of  a  *home  de- 
partment '  in  the  kitchen,  to  draw  similar  supplies  appropriated  Ibr 
the  parlor." 

6 


63  THE    FAMILY   VISITOR. 


BLUE  STOCKINGS. 

The  appellation  of  "  Blue  Stocking  "  is  understood  to  have  origi- 
nated in  the  dress  of  old  Benjamin  Stillingfleet  (grandson  of  the 
bishop)  as  he  used  to  appear  at  the  parties  of  Mrs.  Montagu,  in 
Portman  Square.  He  was  jilted  by  a  mistress,  to  whose  remem- 
brance he  remained  faithful ;  and,  in  spite  of  a  disappointment, 
which  he  then  deeply  felt,  remained  to  the  last  one  of  the  most 
amiable  of  men  and  entertaining  of  companions.  Mr.  Stillingfleet 
almost  always  wore  blue  worsted  stockings,  and  whenever  he  was 
absent  from  Mrs.  Montagu's  evening  parties,  as  his  conversation  was 
very  entertaining,  the  company  used  to  say,  "  We  can  do  nothing 
without  the  blue  stockings ; "  and  by  degrees  the  assemblies  were 
called  blu£  stocking  clubs,  and  leai'ned  people  blue  stockings. 


A  MATRIMONIAL  BARGAIN. 

Urby.  Bags,  my  old  friend,  how  are  you  ? 

Bags.  Ah!  Urby,  my  old  boy,  how  goes  it?  T  ^ 

Urby.  Why,  tol-lol.     I  say.  Bags,  I  want  to  speak  to  you. 

Bags.  Ah !  —  well ;  what's  it  about  ? 

Urby.  Why,  it's  something  private ;  so  let's  go  into  our  own 
room. 

Bags.  Come  along,  then.     Now,  what's  it  ?     Out  with  it. 

Urby.  I  say  —  what  do  you  think  ?  My  nevvy  has  taken  a  liking 
to  your  Bella. 

Bags.  No !  bless  me !    You  don't  say  so. 

Urby.  True,  upon  my  life;  at  least,  so  he  tells  me.  And,  from 
what  I  can  understand,  she  likes  him. 

Bags.  How  very  odd !  And  yet  it  isn't  neither,  now  I  come  to 
think  of  it ;  for  I've  thought,  for  some  weeks  past,  there  was  some- 
thing queer  in  his  manner.  I've  thought,  somehow,  when  I've  been 
talking  to  him  upon  business,  that  his  mind  was  running  upon  some- 
thing sweeter  than  sugars. 

Urby.  That  was  it,  as  sure  as  a  gun. 

Bags.  And  I  remember,  too,  Mrs.  B.,  the  other  day,  saying,  in  her 
romantic  way,  that  she  suspected  they  were  doing  a  bit  of  tender 
together.     But  I  paid  no  attention  to  that  at  the  time. 

Urby.  Mrs.  B.  was  right,  I'll  answer  for  it  Women  soon  see  into 
the  thick  of  these  matters.  Why,  Lord  bless  you!  a  woman  would 
see  through  a  love  affair  if  even  it  were  packed  as  close  as  a  bale  of 
cotton. 

Bags.  But  I  say,  old  boy ;  you,  an  old  bachelor !  where  did  you 
,  pick  up  your  knowledge  of  these  matters  ? 

Urby.  Nonsense;  that's  neither  here  nor  there.    Come,  now,  to 


A    MATRIMONIAL   BARGAIN.  -  63 

the  point  I  say,  Bags,  what  say  you  to  their  making  a  match  of 
it,  eh  ? 

Bags.  Why  —  I  don't  see  any  harm  in  it  But  supposing  we  da 
make  a  match  of  it,  what  do  you  intend  to  do  for  your  nevvy  ? 

Urhy.  First  of  all,  tell  me  what  you  intend  to  do  for  Bella — o^ 
for  him,  which  will  be  all  one. 

Bags.  No,  no;  lliat's  not  at  all  business-like.  I  can't  be  buyer 
and  seller  too.  You  opened  the  transaction ;  so  you  must  speak 
first 

Urhy.  Well,  PU  tell  you  what  You,  as  eldest  partner  in  the 
house,  have  four-eighths  of  the  business,  Bales  has  tliree-eighths, 
HaiTy  has  one  eighth.  Now,  give  him  one  of  your  eighths,  which 
will  make  his  share  in  the  house  a  quarter,  and  I'll  give  him  five 
thousand  pounds  down,  as  clean  as  a  whistle. 

Bags.  An  eighth !  I  say,  my  old  buck,  you  hav'n't  forgotten  how 
to  make  a  bargain.  But,  let  me  see;  an  eighth!  [He  calculates.) 
£ightlis  in  the  —  um  —  um  —  go  five  and  carry  two ;  fives  in  the  — 
um  —  um  —  and  there  remains  —  um  —  um.  Well;  that's  a  good 
deal ;  but  Til  give  it 

Urby.  You  will?    Very  well;  done. 

Bags.  And  done.  And  there's  my  hand  to  it  But,  I  say,  you'll 
give  the  young  folks  five  hundred  pounds  for  outfit — just  to  set 
them  a-going. 

Urby.  No,  no ;  dash  me  if  I  do. 

Bags.  Then  I'm  ofl^  and  it's  no  bargain. 

Urby.  So  say  I,  and  no  harm  done.  So  Harry  may  get  another 
wife,  and  she  may  get  another  husband.  Good  by,  old  boy.  Now, 
I'll  just  go  to  the  Jamaica,  and  look  at  the  papers.    ( Going.)  ' 

Bags.  But,  come ;  I  say,  Urby,  I'll  tell  you  what  I'll  do :  I'll  halve 
it  vfiUi  you.  ril  come  down  two  hundred  and  fifty,  if  you'll  come 
down  ditto. 

Urby.  Why  —  well  —  we  won't  spoil  a  ship  to  save  a  ha'porth  of 
tar  —  I'll  do  it     So  done ;  and  here's  my  hand  to  the  bargain. 

Bags.  And  done  again;  and  now  Fieldlove  may  get  the  girl  as 
soon  as  ever  he  likes. 

So  Mr.  Harry  Fieldlove  and  Miss  Isabella  Bags  were  married. 


TRUTH. 

Truth  has  been  thus  eloquently  described  by  Breton,  who  wrote 
inlGlfi:-  ^ 

"  Truth  is  the  glory  of  time,  and  the  daughter  of  eternity ;  and  a 
title  of  the  highest  grace,  and  a  note  of  divine  nature :  she  is  the 
life  of  religion,  the  light  of  love,  the  grace  of  wit  and  the  crown 
of  wisdom :  she  is  the  beauty  of  valor,  the  brightness  of  honor,  the 
blessing  of  reason,  and  the  joy  of  earth.    Her  truth  is  pure  gold, 


64     *  THE*  FAMILY   VISITOR.  * 

her  tinfi&  is  right  precious,  her  word  is  most  gracious;  her  es- 
sence is  in  God,  and  her  dwelling  with  her  servants ;  her  will  is 
liis  wisdom,  and  her  work  to  his  glory.  She  is  honored  in  love,  and 
graced  in  constancy ;  in  patience  admired,  and  in  charity  heloved : 
she  is  the  angel's  worship,  the  virgin's  fame,  the  saint's  bliss,  and 
the  martyr's  crown :  she  is  the  king's  greatness,  and  his  counsel's 
goodness ;  his  subjects'  peace,  and  his  kingdom's  praise :  she  is  the 
life  of  learning,  and  the  light  of  the  law ;  the  honor  of  trade,  and 
the  grace  of  labor:  she  hath  a  pure  eye,  a  plain  hand,  a  piercing 
wit,  and  a  perfect  heart:  she  is  wisdom's  walk  in  the  way  of  holir 
ness,  and  takes  up  her  rest  in  the  resolution  of  goodness.  Her 
I  tongue  never  trips,  her  heart  never  faints,  her  hand  never  fails,  and 
her  faith  never  fears :  her  church  is  without  schism,  her  city  without 
fraud,  her  court  without  vanity,  and  her  kingdom  without  villany. 
In  sum,  so  infinite  is  her  excellence,  in  the  construction  of  all  sense, 
that  I  will  thus  only  conclude  in  the  wonder  of  her  worth :  she  is 
the  perfection  of  nature,  where  God  in  Christ  shows  the  glory  of 
Christianity."  » 


HOPE, 

Hope  is  a  wondevful  gift  of  God,  and  one  of  the  most  powerful 
^principlsa  i"  to  ':uman  mind.  It  is  the  grand  support  of  all  man- 
^Kind  in  tribulation :  it  is  the  main-spring  of  action  throughout  the 
earth :  nothing  like  hope  inspires  courage  in  difficulties  and  dan- 
gers :  and  what  but  hope  can  wipe  away  tears,  and  cheer  the  sor- 
rowful heart  ?  Hope  for  better  things  in  time  to  come,  is  the  sup- 
port of  all  sufferers  in  the  world ;  it  is  also  the  life  and  vigor  of  all 
adventurers.  We  shall  find  this  principle  at  work  every  where. 
It  is  inscribed  on  the  prison  door,  on  the  merchant's  vessel,  on  the 
warrior's  banner,  on  the  pilgrim's  staff,  and  on  the  pillow  of  the 
dying.  It  animates  the  lawj^er  at  the  bar,  the  preacher  in  the  pulpit, 
the  parent  at  the  head  of  his  family,  and  the  starving  poor,  while 
passing  through  the  dreary  winter.  We  plough  in  hope,  we  sow  in 
hope,  we  reap  in  hope  ;  we  live  in  hope,  and  we  die  in  hope.  Fill 
the  earth  with  hope,  and  you  fill  it  with  life  and  light,  with  vigor 
and  exertion.  Banish  hope  from  the  earth,  you  fill  it  in  a  moment 
full  of  darkness  and  despair.  Where  hope  dies,  exertion  ends,  and 
a  man  is  buried  in  gloom  and  despondency.  While  hope  lives, 
man  looks  forward,  and  strives  to  rise  to  happiness  and  glory.  — 
Jones. 


FLOWERS.  65 

'/ 

FLOWERa 

The  interest  which  flowers  have  excited  in  the  breast  of  man^ 
from  the  earliest  ages  to  the  present  day,  has  never  been  confined 
to  any  particular  class  of  society  or  quarter  of  the  globe.  Nature 
seems  to  have  distributed  them  over  the  whole  world,  to  serve  as  » 
medicine  to  the  mind,  to  give  cheerfulness  to  the  earth,  emd  to  fur- 
nish agreeable  sensations  to  its  inhabitants. 

The  savage  of  the  forest,  in  the  joy  of  his  heart,  binds  his  brow 
with  the  native  flowers  of  the  woods,  whilst  a  taste  for  their  culti-     . 
vation  increases  in  every  country  in  proportion  as  tlie  blessings  of    ' 
civilization  extend. 

From  the  humblest  cottage  enclosure  to  the  most  extensive  park 
and  grounds,  nothing  more  conspicuously  bespeaks  the  good  taste 
of  the  possessor,  than  a  well-cultivated  flower-garden ;  and  it  may 
very  generally  be  remarked,  that  when  we  behold  a  humble  tene- 
ment surrounded  with  ornamental  plants,  the  possessor  is  a  man  of 
correct  habits,  and  possesses  domestic  comforts ;  whilst,  on  the  con- 
trary, a  neglected,  weed-grown  garden,  or  its  total  absence,  marka 
the  indolence  and  unhappy  state  of  those  who  have  been  thus  neg- 
lectful of  Flora's  favors. 

Of  all  luxurious  indulgences,  that  of  flowers  is  the  most  inno- 
cent It  is  productive  not  only  of  rational  gratifications,  but  of 
many  advantages  of  a  permanent  character.  Love  for  a  garden 
has  powerful  influence  in  attracting  men  to  their  homes ;  and  on 
this  account,  every  encouragement  given  to  increase  a  taste  for 
ornamental  gardening  is  additional  security  for  domestic  comfortr 
and  happiness.  It  is,  likewise,  a  recreation  which  conduces  mate- 
rially to  health,  promotes  civilization,  and  softens  the  manners  and 
tempers  of  men.  It  creates  a  love  for  the  study  of  nature,  which 
leads  to  a  contemplation  of  the  mysterious  wonders  that  are  dis- 
played in  the  vegetable  world  around  us,  and  which  cannot  be 
investigated  without  inclining  the  mind  towards  a  just  estimate  of 
religion,  and  a  knowledge  of  the  narrow  limits  of  our  intelligence, 
when  compared  with  tlie  incomprehensible  power  of  the  Creator. 

Flowers  are  of  all  embellishments  the  most  beautiful,  and  of  all 
created  beings,  man  -  alone  seems  capable  of  deriving  enjoyment 
from  them.  The  love  for  them  commences  with  infancy,  remains 
the  delight  of  youth,  increases  with  our  years,  and  becomes  the 
quiet  amusement  of  our  declining  days.  The  infant  can  no  sooner 
walk  than  its  first  employment  is  to  plant  a  flower  in  the  earth,  re- 
moving it  ten  times  in  an  hour,  to  wherever  the  sun  seems  to  shine 
most  favorably.  The  school-boy,  in  the  care  of  his  little  plat  of 
ground,  is  relieved  of  his  studies  and  loses  the  anxious  thought  of 
the  home  he  has  left.  In  manhood  our  attention  is  generally  de- 
manded by  more  active  duties,  or  by  more  imperious,  and,  perhaps, 
less  innocent  occupations ;  but  as  age  obliges  us  to  retire  firom  pub- 
lic life,  the  love  of  flowers  and  the  delights  of  a  garden  return  to 
soothe  the  latter  period  of  our  life. 

To  most  persons  gardening  affords  delight,  as  an  easy  and  agree- 
6» 


OB  THE     FAMILY    VISITOR. 

able  occupation ;  and  the  flowers  they  so  fondly  rear  are  cherished 
from  the  gratification  they  afford  to  the  organs  of  sight  and  of  smell ; 
but  to  the  close  observer  of  nature  and  the  botanist,  beauties  are 
unfolded  and  wonders  displayed,  that  cannot  be  detected  by  the 
careless  attention  bestowed  upon  them  by  the  multitude. 

In  their  growth,  from  the  first  tender  shoots  which  rise  from  the 
earth,  through  all  the  changes  which  they  undergo,  to  the  period  of 
their  utmost  perfection,  he  beholds  the  wonderful  works  of  creative 
power ;  he  views  the  bud  as  it  swells,  and  looks  into  the  expanded 
blossom,  delights  in  its  rich  tints  and  fragrant  smell ;  but,  above  all, 
he  feels  a  charm  in  contemplating  movements  and  regulations  be- 
fore which  all  the  combined  ingenuity  of  man  dwindles  into 
nothingness.  —  Journal  of  Health. 


SNOW-STORM. 

The  following  account  of  the  snow  storm  in  1717,  was  written 
by  Dr.  Cotton  Mather,  and  preserved  amongst  the  manuscript 
volumes  of  the  Massachusetts  Historical  Society.  It  is  a  curious 
relic,  and  will  serve  to  show  the  doctor's  method  of  writing. 

BosToir,  lOih  Dec.  1717. 
^      Sr 

Tho'  we  are  gott  so  far  onward  as  the  beginning  of  another  Win- 
ter, yett  we  have  not  forgott  ye  last,  which  at  the  latter  end  whereof 
we  were  entertained  &  overwhelmed  with  a  Snow,  which  was 
attended  \^ith  some  Things,  which  were  uncommon  enough  to 
aflTord  matter  for  a  letter  from  us.  Our  winter  was  not  so  bad  as 
that  wherein  Tacitus  tells  us,  that  Corbulo  made  his  expedition 
against  the  Parthians,  nor  that  which  proved  so  fatal  to  ye  Beasts  & 
Birds  in  ye  days  of  ye  Emperor  Justinian,  &  that  the  very  Fishes 
were  killed  imder  ye  freezing  sea,  when  Phocas  did  as  much  to  ye 
men  whom  Tyrants  treat  like  ye  Fishes  of  ye  Sea.  But  ye  conclu- 
sion of  our  Winter  was  hard  enough,  and  was  too  formidable  to  be 
easily  forgotten,  &  of  a  piece  with  what  you  had  in  Europe  a  year 
before.  The  snow  was  ye  chief  Thing  that  made  it  so.  For  tho' 
rarely  does  a  Winter  pass  us,  wherein  we  may  not  say  with  Pliny 
Ingens  Hyeme  JVivis  apud  nos  copia,  yet  our  last  Winter  brought 
with  it  a  Snow,  that  excelled  them  all.  The  Snow,  'tis  true,  not 
equal  to  that,  which  once  fell  &  lay  twenty  Cubits  high,  about  tlie 
Beginning  of  October,  in  the  parts  about  ye  Euxine  Sea,  Nor  to  that 
which  ye  Fmnch  Annals  tell  us  kept  falling  for  twenty  Nine  weeks 
together,  Nor  to  several  mentioned  by  Bmtheus,  wherein  vast  num- 
bers of  people,  &  of  Cattel  perished,  Nor  to  those  that  Strabo  finds 
upon  Caucasus  &  JRJwdiginus  in  Armenia.  But  yett  such  an  one,  & 
attended  witli  such  circumstances  as  may  deserve  to  be  remem- 
bered. 


SNOW-STORM.  '  67 

On  the  twentieth  of  the  last  February  there  came  on  a  Snow, 
which  being  added  unto  what  had  covered  tlie  ground  a  few  days 
before,  made  a  thicker  mantle  for  our  Mother  than  what  was  usual : 
And  ye  storm  with  it  was,  for  the  following  day,  so  violent  as  to 
make  all  communication  between  ye  Neighbors  every  where  to 
cease.  —  People,  for  some  hours,  could  not  pass  from  one  side  of  a 
street  imto  another,  &  ve  poor  Women,  who  happened  in  this 
critical  time  to  fall  mto  'fravail,  were  putt  unto  Hardships,  which 
anon  produced  many  odd  stories  for  us.  But  on  ye  Ttcenty  fourth 
day  of  ye  Month,  comes  Pelion  upon  Ossa :  Another  Snow  came  on 
which  almost  buried  ye  Memory  of  ye  former,  with  a  Storm  so 
famous  that  Heaven  laid  an  Interdict  on  ye  Religious  Assemblies 
throughout  ye  Country,  on  this  Lord's  day,  ye  like  whereunto  had 
never  been  seen  before.  The  Indians  near  an  hundred  years  old, 
affirm  that  their  Fathers  never  told  them  of  any  thing  that  equalled 
it.  Vast  numbers  of  Cattel  were  destroyed  in  this  Calamity.  — 
Whereof  some  there  were,  of  ye  Stranger  sort,  were  found  standing 
dead  on  their  legs,  as  if  they  had  been  alive,  many  weeks  after,  when 

Je  Snow  melted  away.  And  otliers  had  their  eyes  glazed  over  with 
ce  at  such  a  rate,  that  being  not  far  from  ye  Sea,  their  mistake  of 
their  way  dro\vned  them  there.  One  gentleman,  on  whose  farms 
were  now  lost  above  1100  sheep,  which  with  other  Cattel,  were  in- 
terred (shall  I  say)  or  Innived,  in  the  Snow,  writes  me  word  that 
there  were  tico  Sheep  very  singularly  circumstanced.  For  no  less 
than  eight  and  twenty  days  after  the  Storm,  the  People  pulling  out 
the  Ruins  of  above  an  100  sheep  out  of  a  Snow-Bank,  which  lay  16 
foot  high,  drifted  over  them,  there  was  two  found  alive,  which  ha4# 
been  there  all  this  time,  and  kept  themselves  alive  by  eating  the^ 
wool  of  their  dead  companions.  Wlien  they  were  taken  out  they 
shed  their  own  Fleeces,  but  soon  gott  into  good  Case  again.  — 
Sheep  were  not  ye  only  creatures  that  lived  unaccountably,  for  whole 
weeks  without  their  usual  sustenance,  entirely  buried  in  ye  Si4|lrv- 
drifts. 

The  Stcine  had  a  share  with  ye  Sheep  in  strange  survivals.  A 
man  had  a  couple  of  young  Hoggs,  which  he  gave  over  for  dead, 
Buton  the  twenty  seventh  day  after  their  Burial,  they  made  their 
wav  out  of  a  Snow-Bardt,  at  the  bottom  of  which  they  had  found  a 
little  Tansy  to  feed  upon.  The  Poultry  as  unaccountably  survived 
as  these.  Hens  were  found  alive  after  seven  days ;  Turkeys  were 
found  alive  after  five  and  twenty  days,  buried  in  ye  Snow,  and  at 
a  distance  from  ye  ground,  and  altogether  destitute  of  any  thing  to 
feed  them.  The  number  of  creatures  that  kept  a  Rigid  Fast,  shutt 
up  in  Snow  for  diverse  weeks  together,  &  were  found  alive  after 
all,  have  yielded  surprizing  stories  unto  us. 

The  Wild  Creatures  of  ye  Woods,  yc  outgoings  of  ye  Evening, 
made  their  Descent  as  well  as  they  could  in  this  time  of  scarcity 
for  them  towards  ye  Sea-side.  A  vast  multitude  of  Deer,  for  ye 
same  cause,  taking  ye  same  course,  &  ye  Deep  Snow  Spoiling  them 
of  their  only  Defence,  which  is  to  run,  they  became  such  a  prey  to 
these  Devourers,  that  it  is  thought  not  one  in  twenty  escaped.  But 
here  again  occurred  a  Curiosity.    These  carnivorous  Sharpers,  & 


68  THE    FAMILY    VISITOR. 

especially  the  Foxes,  would  make  their  Nocturnal  visits  to  the  Pens, 
where  the  people  had  their  sheep  defended  from  them.  The  poor 
Ewes  big  with  young,  were  so  terrified  with  the  frequent  approaches 
of  ye  Foxes,  &  the  Terror  had  such  Impression  on  them,  that  most 
of  ye  Lambs  brought  forth  in  the  Spring  following,  were  of  Monsieur 
Rdnard^s  complexion,  when  ye  Dam,  were  either  White  or  Blacks 
It  is  remarkable  that  immediately  after  ye  Fall  of  ye  Snow  an  infi- 
nite multitude  of  Sparrotos  made  their  Appearance,  but  then,  after  a 
short  continuance,  all  disappeared. 

It  is  incredible  liow  much  damage  is  done  to  ye  Orchards,  For 
the  Snow  freezing  to  a  Crust,  as  high  as  the  boughs  of  ye  trees, 
anon  Split  ym  to  pieces.  The  Cattel  also,  walking  on  ye  crusted 
Snow,  a  dozen  foot  from  ye  ground,  so  fed  upon  ye  Trees  as  very 
much  to  damnify  them.  The  Ocean  was  in  a  prodigious  Ferment, 
and  after  it  was  over,  vast  heaps  of  little  shells  were  driven  ashore, 
wliere  they  wei'e  never  seen  before.  Mighty  shoals  of  Porpoises 
also  kept  a  play-day  in  the  disturbed  waves  of  our  Harbours.  The 
odd  Accidents  befalling  many  poor  people,  whose  Cottages  were 
totally  covered  with  ye  Snow,  &  not  ye  very  tops  of  their  chimneys 
to  be  seen,  would  afford  a  Story.  But  there  not  being  any  Relation 
to  Philosophy  in  them,  I  forbear  them. 

And  now  Satis  Terris  JVivis.  And  here  is  enough  of  my  Winter 
Tale.  If  it  serve  to  no  other  purpose,  yett  it  will  give  me  an  oppor- 
tunity to  tell  you  That  nine  months  ago  I  did  a  thousand  times  wish 
myself  with  you  in  Gresham  Colledge,  which  is  never  so  horribly 
snow'd  upon.  But  instead  of  so  great  a  Satisfaction,  all  I  can 
attain  to  is  the  pleasure  of  talking  with  you  in  this  Epistolary  way 
&  subscribing  myself 

Syr  if  ours  with  an  affection 

that  knows  no  Winter, 

Cotton  Mather. 


ON  KNOWING  EACH  OTHER  IN  A  FUTURE  STATE. 

Amongst  the  pleasures  and  employments  of  heaven,  that  of  the 
knoicledge  of,  and  the  converse  which  the  saints  ivill  have  ivith  one 
another,  appears  to  hold  an  exceedingly  prominent  place.  The  in- 
habitants are  always  represented  as  a  society,  and  as  a  family  con- 
tinually in  the  presence  of  each  other.  We  are  told  of  elders 
together,  of  many  angels  together,  and  of  an  innumerable  multitude 
together,  singing  one  song,  even  the  song  of  Moses  and  the  Lamb. 
"  But  ye  are  come  unto  Mount  Sion,  the  city  of  the  living  God,  the 
heavenly  Jerusalem,  and  to  an  innumerable  company  of  angels  ;  to 
the  general  assembly  and  church  of  the  first-born  who  are  written 
in  heaven,  and  to  God  the  Judge  of  all,  and  to  Jesus  the  Mediator 
of  the  new  covenant"  '" 

Now,  as  we  can  have  no  idea  of  a  society  always  existing  together, 


ON  KNOWING  EACH    OTHER   IN   A    FUTURE    STATE-  G9 

without  its  members  being  intimately  known  to  each  other,  so  we 
can  form  no  idea  of  the  society  of  lieaven,  without  the  same  con- 
ception. Indeed,  this  sentiment  is  plainly  conveyed  to  us  in  the 
words  of  the  Savior:  "Many  shall  come  from  the  east  and  the  west, 
and  shall  sit  down  with  Abraham,  and  Isaac,  and  Jacob,  iiv  the- 
kingdom  of  heaven ; "  for  it  could  not  with  propriety  be  said,  that 
we  should  sit  down  with  these  thi-ee  patriarchs,  if  we  did  not  know 
them,  and  were  not  able  to  recognize  tliem  in  paiticiilar  amidst  the 
innumerable  company. 

II"  it  be  true,  therefore,  that  we  shall  know  Abraham,  Isaac,  and 
Jacob,  men  whom  we  have  never  seen  on  earth,  much  more  true 
is  it  likely  to  be,  that  we  shall  know  those  pious  persons  Avhom  we 
have  seen,  and  with  whom  we  have  been  intimately  acquainted  in 
this  world. 

The  apostle,  in  his  First  Epistle  to  the  Thessalonians,  writes,  "  But 
I  would  not  have  you  to  be  ignorant,  brethren,  concerning  them 
who  are  asleep,  that  ye  sorrow  not,  even  as  others  who  have  no 
hope ;  for  if  we  believe  that  Jesus  died  and  rose  again,  even  so 
them  also  who  sleep  in  Jesus,  will  God  bring  with  him."  This 
language  evidently  implies,  that  pious  friends  here,  though  separated 
by  death,  will  meet  again  at  the  resurrection ;  for,  if  this  be  not  in- 
tended, there  does  not  appear  to  be  any  meaning  in  the  apostle's 
words.  He  writes  to  the  Thessalonians,  to  comfort  them  under  the 
loss  of  some  of  their  fellow-Christians,  and  he  tells  them  not  to  sor- 
row as  those  without  hope.  And  what  is  that  hope  ?  "  That  them 
who  sleep  in  Jesus  will  God  bring  with  him  "  —  words  which  plainly 
intimate  that  the  separation  occasioned  by  death  was  only  for  a^ 
time,  and  that  parted  friends  should  meet  again.  And  if  they  are 
to  meet  again,  what  comfort  can  there  be  in  the  thotight  of  meeting, 
unless  we  suppose  that  each  will  be  fully  known  to  the  other  ? 

That  every  inhabitant  of  the  blissful  world  will  be  as  much  dis- 
tinguished from  all  the  rest,  as  one  man  is  distinguished  from 
another  in  this  world,  is  a  sentiment  fully  supported  by  the  word  of 
God.  And  though  John  says,  that,  when  Christ  shall  appear,  the 
rigliteous  will  be  like  him,  yet  that  same  apostle,  in  the  apoca- 
lyptic vision,  saw  that  the  righteous  and  the  Savior  were  not  so 
much  alike,  but  that  he  could  distinguish  the  Lamb  amidst  the 
throng,  that  he  could  mark  tlie  elders  amidst  the  angels,  and  that 
he  could  know  the  martyrs  amidst  the  innumerable  company.  And 
to  this  same  apostle,  along  with  James  and  Peter,  it  was  also  granted, 
on  the  mount  of  transfiguration,  to  see  that  there  was  such  a  differ- 
ence between  one  celestial  inhabitant  and  another,  that  Moses  could 
be  plainly  distinguished  from  his  companion,  Elias. 

If,  therefore,  every  heavenly  iniiabitant  is  to  preserve  his  own 
special  identity,  and  if  we  are  to  be  blessed  with  the  faculty  of 
vision,  —  a  truth  which  none  will  dispute,  —  what,  then,  will  prevent 
our  recognizing  all  the  pious  whom  we  have  known,  and  with 
whom  we  have  been  associated  on  earth  ?  The  thought  is  delight- 
ful ;  and  its  delight  is  increased,  because  the  fact  is  certain.  The 
dea^in  Christ  have  only  reached  their  home  first ;  but  as  their 
honre  is  to  be  our  home,  and  their  abode  to  be  our  abode,  at  the 


70  THE    FAMILV    VISITOR. 

appointed  time  we  shall  meet  again,  and  the  joy  of  meeting  will  be 
increased  by  the  temporary  separation.  —  Leslie. 


Re-union  in  Heaven.  —  How  short  is  the  earthly  history  of  a 
family  !  A  few  years,  and  those  who  are  now  embraced  in  a  family 
circle  will  be  scattered.  The  children,  now  the  objects  of  tender 
solicitude,  will  have  grown  up  and  gone  forth  to  their  respective 
stations  in  the  world.  A  few  years  more,  and  children  and  parents 
^jsvill  have  passed  from  this  eai'thly  stage.  Their  names  will  be  no 
■  "longer  heard  in  their  present  dwelling.  Their  domestic  loves  and 
anxieties,  happiness  and  sorrows,  will  be  a  lost  and  forgotten  his- 
tory. Every  heart  in  which  it  was  written  will  be  mouldering  in 
the  dust.  And  is  this  all  ?  Is  this  the  whole  satisfaction  which  is 
provided  for  some  of  the  strongest  feelings  of  our  hearts  ?  If  it  be, 
how  shall  we  dare  pour  foi'th  our  affections  on  objects  so  fleeting  .' 
How  can  such  transitory  beings,  with  whom  our  connection  is  so 
brief)  engage  all  the  love  we  are  capable  of  feeling  ?  Why  should 
not  our  feelings  toward  them  be  as  feeble  and  unsatisfactory  as 
they  ?  But,  blessed  be  God,  this  is  not  all.  Of  this  He  has  given 
us  perfect  assurance  in  the  gospel  of  his  Son.  Though,  to  the  eye 
of  unenlightened  nature,  the  ties  of  domestic  love  seem  scattered 
into  dust,  the  spiritual  eye  of  faith  perceives  that  they  have  been 
loosened  on  earth,  only  to  be  resumed,  under  far  happier  circum- 
stances, in  the  regions  of  everlasting  love  and  bliss.  Though  the 
history  of  a  family  may  seem  to  be  forgotten  when  the  last  member 
of  it  is  laid  in  the  grave,  the  memory  of  it  still  lives  in  immortal 
souls,  and  when  the  circle  is  wholly  dissolved  on  earth  it  is  again 
^completed  in  heaven. — Farmer's  Monthly  Visitor. 


A  DESCRIPTION  OF  THE  PERSON  OF  JESUS  CHRIST, 

^  it  was  found  in  an  ancient  Manuscript,  sent  by  Publius  Lentvlvs, 
President  of  Judea,  to  the  Senate  of  Rome. 

There  lives  at  this  time,  in  Judea,  a  man  of  singular  character, 
whose  name  is  Jesus  Christ  The  barbarians  esteem  him  a  prophet, 
but  his  followers  adore  him  as  the  immediate  offspring  of  the  im- 
mortal God:  he  is  endowed  with  such  unparalleled  virtue  as  to  call 
back  the  dead  from  their  graves,  and  to  heal  every  kind  of  disease 
with  a  word  or  a  touch.  His  person  is  tall  and  elegantly  shaped, 
his  aspect  amiable,  reverend.  His  hair  flows  in  those  beautiful 
shades  which  no  united  colors  can  match,  falling  in  graceful  curls 
below  his  ears,  agreeably  couching  on  his  shoulders,  and  parting  on 
the  crown  of  his  head,  like  the  head-dress  of  the  sect  of  the  Naza- 
rites ;  his  forehead  is  smooth  and  large ;  his  cheek  without  spot, 
save  that  of  a  lovely  red ;  his  nose  and  mouth  are  formed  with  ex- 
quisite symmetry ',  his  beard  is  thick,  and  suitable  to  the  hair  of  his 


NEWSPAPERS,    AND    THE   ART   OF   PRINTING.  '        71 

head,  reaching  a  little  below  his  chin,  and  parted  in  the  middle  like 
a  fork ;  his  eyes  are  bright,  clear,  and  serene.  He  rebukes  with 
majesty,  counsels  with  mildness,  and  invito^  with  the  most  tender 
and  persuasive  language ;  his  whole  address,  whether  in  word  or 
deed,  being  elegant,  grave,  and  strictly  characteristic  of  so  exalted  a 
Being.  No  man  has  seen  him  laugh  ;  but  the  whole  world  behold 
hun  weep  frequently ;  and  so  persuasive  are  his  tears,  that  the  mul- 
titude cannot  witlihold  their  tears  from  joining  in  sympathy  with 
him.  He  is  very  modest,  temperate,  and  wise.  In  short,  whatever 
this  phenomenon  may  turn  out  in  the  end,  he  seems  at  present  a 
man  for  excellent  beauty  and  divine  perfections  every  way  sur- 
passing the  children  of  men. 


NEWSPAPERS,  AND  THE  ART  OF  PRINTING. 

It  was  Bishop  Home's  opinion  that  there  is  no  better  moralist 
than  a  newspaper.    He  says  — 

"The  follies,  vices,  and  consequent  miseries  of  multitudes  dis- 
played in  a  newspaper,  are  so  many  admonitions  and  warnings,  so 
many  beacons,  continually  burning,  to  turn  others  from  the  rocks 
on  which  tliey  have  been  shipwrecked.  What  more  powerful  dis- 
suasive from  suspicion,  jealousy,  and  anger,  than  the  story  of  one 
friend  murdered  by  another,  in  a  duel  ?  What  caution  likely  to  be 
more  effectual  against  gambling  and  profligacy,  than  the  mournful  ^ 
relation  of  an  execution,  or  the  fate  of  a  despairing  suicide  ?  What 
finer  lecture  on  the  necessity  of  economy,  than  an  auction  of  estates, 
houses  and  fimiiture  ?  '  Talk  they  of  morals  ?  There  is  no  need 
of  Ilutcheson,  Smith,  or  Paley.  Only  take  a  newspaper,  and  con- 
sider it  well ;  read  it,  and  it  will  instruct  thee.' " 


"When  Tamerlane  had  finished  building  his  pyramids  of  seventy 
thodsand  human  skulls,  and  was  standing  at  the  gate  of  Damascus, 
glittering  with  steel,  with  his  battle-axe  on  his  shoulder,  till  the 
fierce  hosts  filed  to  new  victories  and  carnage,  the  pale  on-looker 
might  have  fancied  that  nature  was  in  her  death-throes ;  for  havock 
and  despair  had  taken  possession  of  the  earth,  and  the  smi  of  nian- 
hood  seemed  setting  in  seas  of  bloocL  Yet  it  might  be  on  that  very 
gala-day  of  Tamerlane,  a  little  boy  was  playing  nine-pins  in  the 
streets  of  Meutz,  whose  history  was  more  important  to  them  titift 
twenty  Tamerlanes !  The  Tartar  Khan,  with  his  shaggy  dcrn<aur 
of  the  wilderness,  passed  away  like  the  whirlwind,  to  be  forjrotten 
forever;  and  that  German  artisan  has  wrought  a  benefit  which  is 
yet  immeasunibly  exfianding  itself,  and  will  continue  to  expand 
through  all  countrieai  and  all  time.  What  are  the  conquests  and 
expeditions  of  the  whole  corporations  of  captains,  fioiu  Walter  the 
Penniless  to  Napoleon  Bonaparte,  compared  with  the  movable  types 
of  J^^uanes  Faust .'  "  —  Foreign  Revieio. 


i 


73  THE    FAMILY    VISITOR. 


HAPPY  CONDITION  OF  THE  FARMER. 

The  condition  of  a  community  situated  as  are  the  great  mass  of 
agriculturists  in  America,  is  more  desirable  than  that  of  any  other 
chiss  of  men.  Living  within  their  own  means,  on  the  fruits  of  tliek 
own  labor;  enjoying  abundance  of  the  best  products  of  the  ground 
and  the  first  fatlings  of  the  flock;  the  appetite  sharpened  and 
sweetened,  tlie  muscular  powers  strengthened,  the  mind  made  vig- 
orous and  active,  by  labor ;  their  dependence  solely  on  the  goodness 
of  God ;  their  prudence  having  looked  forward  even  to  the  de- 
struction of  a  crop,  with  a  providence  to  supply  its  place ;  with 
abundant  leisure  lor  all  healthy  recreation  and  all  needllil  rest ; 
with  no  worldly  cares  and  vexations  encroaching  on  the  reflection 
which  aids  the  better  judgment;  in  the  midst  of  those  social  and 
domestic  relations  which  throw  a  chai'm  about  life,  which  give  to 
moral  suasion  its  greatest  force,  and  which  rear  the  "tender 
thought "  to  the  ripe  vigor  of  its  highest  usefulness  ;  —  how  can  we 
conceive  any  state  of  imperfect,  erring,  dependent  man  more  truly 
enviable  than  that  of  the  industrious,  laboring,  prolific  farmers  of 
America,  who  live  according  to  the  best  lights  of  their  own  experi- 
ence? The  merchant  fails  nine  times  in  ten  before  a  fortune  is 
gained ;  the  speculator,  ninety-nme  times  in  a  hundred ;  the 
mechanic  and  the  law)  er  gain  only  while  their  work  is  going  on  ; 
the  wages  of  the  priest,  like  those  of  the  common  laborer,  stop  when 
lie  no  longer  works ;  the  physician  adds  to  his  income  no  oftener 
than  he  visits  the  sick  ;  the  salary  man,  if  he  saves  at  all,  saves  only 
a  specific  sum ;  the  farmer,  more  sure  of  success  than  either,  in 
nine  cases  out  of  ten,  certain  of  ultimate  prosperity,  lays  his  head 
upon  his  pillow,  with  the  reflection  that  while  he  sleeps  his  crops 
are  increasing  to  maturity,  and  his  flocks  and  herds  growing  in  size 
and  strength.  —  Farmer's  Monthly  Visitor. 


GENIUS   vs.   LABOR. 

"  Of  what  use  is  all  your  studying  and  your  books  *"  said  an 
honest  farmer  to  an  ingenious  artist.  "They  don't  make  the  com 
grow,  nor  produce  vegetables  for  mai'ket.  My  Sam  does  more  good 
with  his  plough  in  one  month,  than  you  can  do  witli  your  books 
and  papers  in  one  year." 
c  "^  What  plough  does  your  son  use  ?"  said  the  artist,  quietly. 

"  Wliy,  he  uses 's  plough,  to  be  sure.     He  can  do  nothing 

with  any  other.     By  using  this  j)lougli,  we  save  half  the  labor,  and 
raise  three  times  as  much  as  we  did  with  the  old  wooden  concern." 

The  artist,  quietly  again,  turned  over  one  of  his  sheets,  and 
shoAved  the  fkrmer  the  drawbig  of  the  lauded  plough,  saying,  "lam 
the  inventor  of  your  favorite  plough,  and  my  name  is ." 

The  astonished  farmer  shook  the  artist  heartily  by  the  hand.;  and 
invited  him  to  call  at  the  farm-house,  and  m^e  it  his  home  al  long 
as  he  liked. 


TIDE    TABLE. 


73 


TIDE  TABLE. 


[From  the  American  Almanac.'] 

The  following  Table  contains  the  Unit  of  Altitude  of  several  ports  and  places  on' 
the  coast  of  America,  according  to  the  best  authorities. 

The  unit  of  altitude  of  the  several  places  in  the  Bay  of  Fundy  was  ascertained 
by  recent  observations. 


Feet. 
Advocate  Harbor,  (Bay  of  Fundy,)  50 

Andrews,  St. 25 

Annapolis,  (N.  S.) 30 

Apple  River, 50 

Augustine,  St. ...^ 5 

Basin  of  Mines,  (Bay  of  Fundy,). .  .60 

Bay,  Bristed, 8 

"     Broad 9 

"     Buzzard's, 5 

"    Casco, 9 

"     Chignecto,  (north  part  of  the  ? /-« 

Bay  of  Fundy,) $ 

"     St.  Mary's, » 16 

"     Vert, 7 

Beaver  Harbor, •• 7 

Bell  Island  Straits, 30 

Block  Island, 5 

Boston, 11| 

Cape  Ann, 11 

"     Blomidom,  (Bay  of  Fundy,).60 

«     Chat 13 

"    Cod  Light-House, 6A 

"      "     Harbor, 11 

"    D'Or,  (Bay  of  Fundy,) 50 

"    Henlopen, 5 

"    Henry, 4A 

"    Lookout, 9 

"    May 6 

"     St.  Mary, 14 

"     Sable, 9 

"     Split,  (Bay  of  Fundy,) 55 

Charleston,  (S.  C). 6 

Cumberland,  (basin  Fort,)   bead).., 
oftheBay  of  Fundy......  ^  " 

Digby,  (N.  S.) 30 

Easlport. 25 

Elizabeln  Isles, 5 

"        Town  Point, 6 

Florida  Keys, 6 

Gay  tJead,  (Vineyard,) 5 

George's  River, 9 

Georgetown  Bar, 4 

Goldsborough, 12 

Green  Is^lanHs, 16 

Gut  of  Annapolis, ...30 

Gut  i>f  Cansor, .,..  8 

Halifax, 8: 

Hampton  Roads, 6 

Hillshoroueh  Inlet, 5 

HoUa^'s  Hole, 5 


Feet. 

John's,  St.  (N.  B.) .J.. ...30 

John's,  St.  (N.  F.) 4p....  7 

Kennebec, 9 

Kennebunk, 9 

Long  Island  Sound, 5 

Louisburg,  (C.  B.) •••^ 

Machias, ..^....12 

Marblehead, II 

Mary's,  St.,  Bar, 7 

Monomoy  Point, 6 

Moose  River,  (Bay  of  Fundy,)... .30 

"       Island,  (Me.) 25 

Mount  Desert, 12 

Mouths  of  the  Mississippi, lA 

Nantucket,  (Shoal  amd  Town,) 5 

Nassau,  (N.  P.) 7 

New  Bedford, 5 

Newbury  port, 10 

New  Haven, 8 

Newport, 5 

New  York, 5 

Norfolk, 5 

Partridge  Island,  (Bay  of  Fundy,).  .55 

Pcissamaquoddy  River, "5 

Penobscot   River, 10 

Plymouth, Hi 

Portland,. 9 

Port  Homer, 8 

"     Hood, 6 

"    Jackson, 8 

''    Roseway, 8 

Portsmouth,  (N.  H.) '. 10 

Prince  Edward's  Island, 6 

Providence, 5 

Rhode  Island  Harbor, 6 

Richmond, 4 

Salem,  (Mass.) 11 

Sandwich  Hay, 8 

Sandy  Hook, 5 

Seven  Isles  Harbor, 31 

Sheepscut  River, 9 

Shubcnecadie  River,  (B.  of  Fundy,)  70 

Simon's,  St.,  Bac, 6 

"        «    Sound, 6 

Townsend  Harbor, 9 

Truro,  (Bay  of  Fundy,) 70 

Vineyard  Sound, 5 

Windsor,  (Ray  of  Fundy,) 60 

Wood's   Hole, 5 

Yarmouth,  (N.  S.) 12 


74 


THE   FAMILY   VISITOR. 


BLODGET'S  TABLE. 

This  table  is  calculated  for  round  timber  an?!  board  logs,  and 
shows,  at  one  view,  the  number  of  square  feet  any  stick  of  round 
timber  contains,  from  10  to  40  feet  lon^  and  from  10  to  48  inches 
diameter. 


i 


eo^'l^'^t^   ^«^'>c_cq^i-<_>£5_^eq^-H^'^^q^03^— i^T?  t-^     '^"l,^'"!,'*^'^   ^'^^'^^^'^^'^ 


^ 


fs^c^e^^   __aj^i-^tr>^'<#^<io^rt^  .,°^'^^'''^^®^»  ^'^'^^'^^'^'^^'"l,  ^^_t~^''V^~'^»'~t,^ 


©<lMWrtWC0TjiTjiTj'lJ5l0"5i0to«0t3t0t^t~t--t-C000C0000^<JlC»OOO 


rj""  to'cT'^-*  iPcT  ■-<"■<*  too? 


f  o  (r\  f  o  r^  1-^  r-—  ^-«  r-.  rr\  rr\  rv-v  '-«1  (*r\  rT^  i^^  r^s 


jiOfiOto^otO'-ot^t^t-t^coeococoaiOicriCT 


.,®1'''^'^  ^'H^'^f^  ..^l''?,'^  ..''^''V*";.  ..^''?,*^  ^'^l'''^'^ 

G^G^G^G^COCOCOGO'^'TTfrf<'^iO^OiO^OOtotOti>t*C^C^C^COCOCOCOC> 


;*  to  03  ^  co~'o"^^o^l-H■^<^>"lO~t-"o^'-^~<«~o'~^-~oi~(^^■*"to"aD~o'~s<^T}^^a~o3"c^l^^ 

&>S<<?<COCOCOM<«TjiT?Tj'-*--}<iOiOiO'OiOtOVO!ritDt-t~t-t-t-ODCO 


■*"io  c-'oa'cTi-i  G-frfiffto  c<^cC^!^f co~>n~to'o3"arQ'{^re7">rrto~o?"crrQ~G-rso">o"t^ 


«0-jiif5t~05      — s<w*<nr-os      i-is^(«>otot~a>      r—  's\^  lo  to  co  ai      i-i 


O'—  ©tw^iotor-oDCTio— ie> 


§5i3!S 


tor~o2c^0'-ie-jwi*'ioiot~o3  0'i< 

G^G-tfMatCOCjeOCOMWGOeOCOW 


t  o5  &<  e^  g5  0<  G^  ©<&<««  CO  WGO  CO 


)0  —  G-f 

»  --M  »?^  %1 


crrc<f  •*'>f5  vp  vo  t^  o3 

S»G^G<&)s5&<G<?5 


^rti—i-l— (  —  1-.  —  —  — <— 1.-1— r-—  -^G-IG^S^G^ 


05^-*_— < 


G*  G»  (N  e^  5? 


o^G|^r-^eo 


<  S^  G<  S^  G^  S< 


P-G!«-*'3«t£22S;Sg}23a 


BLODOET  S    TABLE. 

Explanation. 


75 


Look  in  the  column  on  the  lefl  haiid  for  the  length,  and  follow  the  guide  lines 
till  you  come  directly  under  figures  in  the  top  column,  which  represent  the  diameter, 
and  you  will  have  your  answer  in  feet  and  tenths  of  a  foot. 

N.  B.  1 15  feet  of  square  timber  is  allowed  to  make  1000  of  boards,  the  diameter 
being  taken  in  the  middle ;  and  106,  if  it  be  taken  at  the  top  end. 


^ 


J5 


§? 


^ 


^ 


■-.  03  l>  !C  to  O '*• 


c~co<SoiO«G^s^rt'<*''OOtot~cacoa> 


CO  »o  s<  o  to  CO  o  r~~-*"'™'«~-'"'*"— •'"eo''>crof  crio"irf~ 
toi'-eocooio  —  —oJtoeo^voiPStot-i^ajai 


tot~t~coocno— <— ■s~»«M-*>ootot~b-coS 


i£^r^  ^s^^»q^c-^  .^^..''V^  ^^''V^  .,^..''5.'^  ..^"^ 


>«lOl-C~COCOClOO"-i'-<&<«c'5-*-*iOtOtOt--t~CO 


to's^''^^«~c^'^<"c^^c"-^^^!^^co■-f>'cJ^lr^'-<~^o~GTos"er^c^'#~© 
»fttotot-t~coa>a>oo-"  —  siG-<</5-#'^oiootot~co 


»o55<otot-65ooOTaioo  —  —  s^s<(rtcorf'rfkf5totor~t~ 


to_t-;_l-;_oo_a5^o%_   ^"1""  s<._ff»_«^-*  rj"_^»o^to^to__r^t-_^oq_c\   __   ^"^"^ 

g"~i3~Q~o~Q~«fi~— '~to~-N"to'~--'~to'— "to"-— "tiT^-'tg^— rto"-«'"r~"s^'~r-~e^ 


■>*"»oiotovot»t~oo«ma>oo-<~^tN©<rt«'*'»fvr5iototo 


•-;_«r^e^r^&»^t-^e^eq^e^oq^<«^oq_c^oo_'*_05^T5^   _^-<^   _^«^   _^ir^   ^iq^   _^<i>_ 

uj a^-t  co"w'"t~-'~©r<o"— •  ^na-^a^^m'si  t~"(M''to~t-<'u5 cT'^ o^n cgei" 
Tf'*»6iototot~f-eoeocSCTicic5o— >  — e^&Jwco^Tj'Tj'irfioto 


$i 


53    Q-*oj  e^tpQ-*  cos^toQ-f  CO  s^to  Oi'so  s^to  Q-*  OS  e^oQ^eoe^ 


"V^  _^0(^iO^w^'— ^OD^to^o^"— ^cq^to^eo_--^eo^to_^-*^'-^a\^to^'*^'-<^o^to_'*'^'-_  c^to^ij*^ 
f.— .  >«j'eo"©i~Mj"ar(?i"r^-^>o'"oo"s^''to'~o'~M'<^--~>rreo'<?rto'"Q"«"r-~'-'"'0  m'sj  to" 


^ 


iSS2S2S{:;2S^i5l5l5^S^S^?J§?««S^S^^S;§5%§ 


76  THE   FAMILY   VISITOR. 


A  LITERARY  WIFE. 


How  delightful  is  it  when  the  mind  of  the  female  is  so  happily 
disposed,  and  so  richly  cultivated,  as  to  participate  in  the  literary 
avocations  of  her  husband !  It  is  then  truly  that  the  intercourse  of 
the  sexes  becomes  the  most  refined  pleasure.  What  delight,  for  in- 
stance, must  the  great  Budaeus  have  tasted,  even  in  those  works 
which  must  have  been  for  others  a  most  dreadful  labor !  His  wife 
left  him  nothing  to  desire.  The  frequent  companion  of  his  studies, 
she  brought  him  the  books  he  required  to  his  desk  ;  she  compared 
passages,  and  transcribed  quotations ;  the  same  genius,  the  same  in- 
clinations, and  the  same  ardor  for  literature,  eminently  appeared  in 
those  two  fortunate  persons.  Far  from  withdrawing  her  husband 
from  his  studies,  she  was  sedulous  to  animate  him  when  he  lan- 
guished. Ever  at  his  side  and  ever  assiduous  ;  ever  with  some  use- 
ful book  in  her  hand,  she  acknowledged  herself  to  be  a  most  happy 
woman.  Yet  she  did  not  neglect  the  education  of  eleven  children. 
She  and  Budaeus  shared  in  the  mutual  cares  they  owed  their  progeny. 
Budseus  was  not  insensible  of  his  singular  felicity.  In  one  of  his 
letters,  he  represents  himself  as  married  to  two  ladies ;  one  of  whom 
gave  him  boys  and  girls ;  the  other  was  Philosophy,  who  produced 
books. 

What  a  delightful  family  picture  has  the  younger  Pliny  given 
posterity  in  his  letters !  Of  Calphurnia,  his  wife,  he  says,  "  Her 
affection  to  me  has  given  her  a  turn  to  books ;  and  my  composi- 
tions, which  she  takes  a  pleasure  in  reading,  and  even  getting  by 
heart,  are  continually  in  her  hands.  How  full  of  tender  solicitude 
is  she  when  I  am  entering  upon  any  cause  !  How  kindly  does  she 
rejoice  with  me  when  it  is  over !  While  I  am  pleading,  she  places 
persons  to  inform  her  from  time  to  time  how  I  am  heard,  what  ap- 
plauses I  receive,  and  what  success  attends  the  cause.  When  at 
any  time  I  recite  my  works,  she  conceals  herself  behind  some  cur- 
tain, and  with  secret  rapture  enjoys  my  praises.  She  sings  my 
verses  to  her  lyre,  with  no  other  master  but  love,  the  best  instructor, 
for  her  guide.  Her  passion  will  increase  with  our  days,  for  it  is  not 
my  youth  nor  niy  person,  wliich  time  gradually  impairs,  but  my 
reputation  and  my  glory  of  which  she  is  enamored."  ^. 


THE  OLD  AGE  OF   A  TEMPERATE  MAN. 

Lewis  Cornaro,  a  Venetian  nobleman,  memorable  for  having 
lived  to  an  extreme  old  age,  he  being  one  hundred  and  five  years 
old  at  the  time  of  his  death,  wrote  a  treatise  on  "  The  Advantages  of 
a  Temperate  Life."  He  Was  induced,  it  appears,  to  compose  this  at 
the  request  and  for  the  instruction  of  some  ingenious  young  men, 
for  whom  he  had  a  regard ;  who,  seeing  him,  then  eighty-one  years 


THE   OLD   AGE   OP   A   TEMPERATE   MAN.  77 

old,  in  a  fine,  florid  state  of  health,  were  extremely  desirous  to  be 
made  acquainted  with  the  means  by  which  he  had  been  enaliled  to 
presenc  the  vigor  of  his  mind  and  body  to  so  advanced  an  age. 
He  describes  to  them,  accordingly,  liis  whole  manner  of  living,  and 
tlie  regimen  he  invariably  pursued.  He  states,  that  when  he  waa^ 
young,  lie  was  very  intemperate ;  that  this  intemperance  had  brought" 
upon  him  many  and  grievous  disorders ;  that  from  his  thu-ty-fifth  to 
his  fortieth  year,  he  spent  his  days  and  nights  in  the  utmost  anxiety 
and  pain ;  and  that,  in  short,  his  life  had  become  a  burden  to  him. 
His  physicians,  after  many  fruitless  attempts  to  restore  him  to 
health,  told  him,  that  there  was  but  one  medicine  remainhig,  which 
had  not  yet  been  tried;  but  which,  if  he  could  but  prevail  upon  him- 
self to  use  with  perseverance,  would  free  him  from  all  his  com- 
plaints ;  and  that  was  a  regular  and  temperate  plan  of  life.  Upon 
this  he  immediately  prepared  himself  for  his  new  regimen,  and  con- 
fined himself  to  a  very  moderate  portion  of  plain  and  wholesome 
food.  This  diet  was,  at  first,  very  disagreeable  to  him,  and  he 
longed  to  return  again  to  his  former  mode  of  living.  Occasionally, 
indeed,  without  the  knowledge  of  his  physicians,  he  did  indulge 
himself  in  a  greater  freedom  of  diet ;  buL  as  he  informs  us,  much 
to  his  own  mieasiness  and  detriment  Compelled  by  necessity,  and 
exerting  resolutely  all  the  powers  of  his  mind,  he  became,  at  length, 
confirmed  in  a  settled  and  uninterrupted  course  of  the  strictest  tem- 
perance ;  by  virtue  of  which,  as  he  states,  all  his  disorders  had  left 
him  in  less  than  a  year,  and  he  enjoyed,  subsequently,  perfect  and 
uninterrupted  heahh.  He  says,  "I  will  briefly  run  over  the  satis- 
factions and  pleasures  which  I  now  enjoy,  in  this  eighty-third  year 
of  my  age.  In  the  first  place,  I  am  always  well,  and  so  active 
withal,  that  I  can  with  ease  mount  a  horse  upon  a  flat,  and  walk  to 
the  top  of  very  high  moimtains.  In  the  next  place,  I  am  always 
cheerful,  pleasant,  perfectly  contented,  and  free  from  all  perturba- 
tion, and  every  unpleasant  thought  Joy  and  peace  have  so  firmly 
fixed  their  residence  in  my  bosom,  as  never  to  depart  from  it.  I 
have  none  of  that  satiety  of  life,  so  often  to  be  met  with  in  persona 
of  my  age,  for  I  am  enabled  to  spend  every  hour  of  my  time  with 
the  greatest  delight  and  pleasure.  I  frequently  converse  with  men 
of  talents  and  learning,  and  spend  much  of  my  time  in  reading  and 
writing.  I  have  another  way  of  diverting  myself — by  going  every 
spring  and  autumn  to  enjoy,  for  some  days,  an  eminence  which  I 
possess  in  the  most  beautiful  part  of  tlie  Euganian  Hills,  adorned 
with  fountains  and  gardens ;  and,  above  all,  a  convenient  and  hand- 
some lodge,  in  which  place  I  also,  now  and  then,  make  one  in  somo 
hunting  party,  suitable  to  my  taste  and  age.  At  the  sanie  seasons 
of  every  year,  I  revisit  some  of  the  neighboring  cities,  and  enjoy  the 
company  of  such  of  my  friends  as  live  there,  and  through  them  the 
conversation  of  other  men  of  parts,  who  reside  in  those  places, 
such  as  architects,  painters,  sculptors,  musicians,  and  husbandmen. 
I  visit  their  new  works;  I  revisit  their  former  ones,  and  always 
learn  something  which  gives  me  satisfaction.  I  see  the  palaces, 
gardens,  antiquities ;  and,  with  these,  the  squares,  and  otlier  public 
places,  the  churches,  the  fortifications  —  leaving  nothing  unob> 
7* 


78  THE   FAMILY   VISITOR. 

served,  from  which  I  may  reap  either  entertainment  or  instruction. 
But  what  delights  me  most,  is,  in  my  journeys  backwards  and  for- 
wards, to  contemplate  the  situation  and  other  beauties  of  the  places 
I  pass  through  —  some  in  the  plain,  others  on  hills,  adjoining  to 
rivers  or  fountains  —  with  numerous  beautiful  houses  and  gardens. 
Nor  ai-e  my  recreations  rendered  less  agreeable  and  entertaining  by 
my  not  seeing  well,  or  not  hearing  I'eadily  every  thing  that  is  said 
to  me  —  or  by  any  other  of  my  senses  not  being  perfect ;  for  they 
are  all,  thank  God,  in  the  highest  perfection,  particularly  my  palate, 
which  now  x*elishes  better  the  simple  fare  I  meet  with  wherever 
I  happen  to  be,  than  it  did  formerly  the  most  delicate  dishes,  when 
I  led  an  iri'egular  life.  I  sleep,  too,  every  where  soundly  and  quietly, 
without  experiencing  the  least  disturbance ;  and  all  my  dreams  ai'e 
pleasant  and  delighttiil. 

"  These  are  the  delights  and  comforts  of  my  old  age,  from  which 
I  presume  that  the  life  I  spend  is  not  a  dead,  morose,  and  melan- 
choly one,  but  a  living,  active,  and  pleasant  existence,  which  I 
would  not  change  with  the  most  robust  of  those  youths,  who  indulge 
and  riot  in  all  the  luxury  of  the  senses  —  because  I  know  them  to 
be  exposed  to  a  thousand  diseases,  a  thousand  unavoidable  sources 
of  unhappiness,  and  a  thousand  kinds  of  death.  I,  on  the  contrary, 
am  free  from  all  such  apprehensions  —  from  the  apprehension  of 
disease,  because  I  have  nothing  for  disease  to  feed  upon  —  from 
the  apprehension  of  death,  because  I  have  spent  a  life  of  reason. 
Besides,  death,  I  am  persuaded,  is  not  yet  neai*  me.  I  know 
that,  barring  accidents,  no  violent  disease  can  touch  me.  1  must  be 
dissolved  by  a  gentle  and  gradual  decay,  when  the  radical  moisture 
is  consumed,  like  oil  in  a  lamp,  which  affords  no  longer  life  to  the 
dying  taper." 


NATURAL  SCIENCE. 

"It  has  been  well  remarked,  that  one  feels  inexpressible  relief^ 
after  witnessing  the  distressing  scenes  in  every-day  life,  and  the 
petty  cares  and  vexations  to  which  man  subjects  man,  to  contem- 
plate the  harmonies  of  creation,  and  to  study  the  revolutions  of  the 
planetary  system,  and  the  structure  and  formation  of  the  earth  which 
we  inhabit.  The  mind  is  elevated  by  such  subjects ;  self-love  i» 
gratified  by  the  discoveries  made  in  the  progress  of  our  inquiries ; 
and  we  feel  in  communion,  as  it  were,  through  his  works,  with  the 
great  First  Cause,  the  creative  Intelligence,  who  gave  methodical 
arrangement  and  harmonious  movement  to  the  whole.  Frequent 
and  attentive  observation  of  the  phenomena  of  external  nature, 
begets  an  habitual  calmness  of  disposition,  eminently  favorable  to 
health  and  happiness,  and  induces  a  caution  in  drawing  inferences 
ftt)m  few  and  imperfect  data,  by  which  true  philosophy  is  sure  to 
gain.    Sensuality,  in  its  obnoxious  meaning,  finds  no  incentives  in  ^ 


ABUSE    OF   MEDICINE.  79 

the  Study  of  nature  ;  yet  all  the  senses  in  more  immediate  relation 
with  intellect,  are  fully  and  pleasurably  occupied.  We  rarely  meet 
with  men  whose  wants  are  more  moderate  and  ambition  less  worldly 
than  naturalists ;  enthusiasm  they  have,  but  it  takes  a  salutary  and* 
specific  direction,  and  its  indulgence  claims  only  their  own  personal 
privation  —  no  encroachment  on  the  comibrt  of  others.  The  devo- 
tee to  natural  science  in  this  his  life, 


■  exempt  from  public  haunt, 


Finds  tongues  in  trees,  books  in  the  running  brooks, 
Sermons  in  stones,  and  good  in  every  thing.' 

To  him  the  deep  raArine  and  narrow  defile  are  records  of  history ; 
they  speak  of  revolutions  in  the  earth's  surface,  chronicling,  them- 
selves, their  own  change.  The  forest,  the  copse,  the  party-colored 
moss,  have,  in  his  eyes,  charms  beyond  their  mere  picturesque  dis- 
position and  various  hues ;  he  connects,  in  his  mind,  their  growth, 
with  tlie  quality  of  the  soil,  and  the  very  age  of  the  still  lower  rocky 
foundation ;  he  notes  thei&  contrast  with  the  vegetable  forms  and 
productions  of  other  climates  and  remoter  lands,  and  finds,  in  scenes 
which  would  seem  cold  and  spiritless  to  otiiers,  materials  for  abun- 
dant reflection  and  comparison,  objects  of  genuine  poetry  and  elo- 
quence. In  this  point  of  view  alone,  to  say  nothing  of  their  numer- 
ous applications  to  the  useful  arts,  geology,  mineralogy,  zoology,  and 
lK)tany  have  claims  on  the  attention  of  every  individual  who  is  de- 
sirous of  making  the  expansion  of  his  mind  and  the  elevation  of  his 
feelings  contribute  to  the  preservation,  and  be  in  a  measure  com- 
mensiuate  with  the  vigor,  of  his  health."  —  Jaumal  of  Health. 


ABUSE  OF  MEDICINE. 

"The  injudicious  use  of  medicine  is,  doubtless,  the  occasion  of  no 
little  injury  to  the  human  constitution.  As  all  active  medicines 
tend  to  disturb  the  natural  movements  of  life,  they  are  never  to  be 
resorted  to  before  cautiously  inquiring  whether  the  end  will  war- 
rant the  means ;  in  other  words,  whether  the  evil  they  are  designed 
to  oppose  is  more  serious  than  what  they  themselves  will  probably 
induce.  Let  it  ever  be  remembered,  too,  that  nature  of  herself  is 
fully  adequate  to  the  removal  of  trifling  and  incidental  difficulties ; 
or  requiring,  at  least,  only  negative  aid ;  that  is,  the  avoidance  of 
all  impediments,  as  improper  diet,  exposure,  &c.,  to  her  recupera- 
tive efforts. 

Few  habits  are  more  adverse  to  the  welfare  of  the  constitution, 
than  that  of  applying  to  medicine  for  every  slight  disorder,  since  the 
necessity  for  it  growing  with  its  use,  it  is  oftentimes  contributing  to 
the  very  evils  it  is  intended  to  remedy.  Thus,  if  for  every  trifling 
disturbance  of  the  stomach  and  bowels,  we  call  in  the  assistance  of 
emetics,  cathartics,  or  stimulants,  these  organs,  accustomed,  if  I  may 


-*>v. 


80  THE    FAMILY   VISITOR. 

SO  speak,  to  depend  on  foreign  aid,  will,  in  a  measure,  cease  to  avail 
themselves  of  their  own  energies  under  embarrassments.  The 
physical  as  well  as  the  moral  powers  should  be  educated  to  a  cer- 
tain degree  of  self-dependence.  But  active  medicines  are  also 
injurious  in  a  more  positive  manner,  operating  both  as  local  irritants, 
and  to  produce  various  sympathetic  derangements  in  the  system. 

There  has  ever  existed  a  class  of  nervous  valetudinarians,  in  whom 
a  pain  or  an  ache,  or  the  least  ailment,  can  hardly  exist,  unless  the 
pill-box  or  essence-bottle  is  called  into  requisition.  And  it  is  quite 
amusing  often  to  hear  them  expressing  their  astonishment  that  their 
health  can  be  so  poor,  when  they  are  constantly  taking  such  quan- 
tities of  medicine. 

Some  persons  are  in  the  daily  practice  of  overburdening  the 
stomach,  and  then  swallowing  medicinal  tinctures  or  pills,  to  help 
it  to  get  rid  of  its  unnatural  load.  Hence  it  is  that  we  so  commonly 
see  dinner  pills  advertised  for  sale. 

There  is  another  absurd  practice,  still  existing  to  some  extent ; 
that  is,  of  taldng  medicine,  as  salts,  sulphur,  mercury,  &c.,  at  cer- 
tain seasons,  even  when  the  system  is  in  ordinary  health,  to  purify 
the  blood  and  clear  it  from  humors,  as  it  is  commonly  expressed. 
Some  persons  even  get  into  the  habit  of  being  bled  every  spring, 
under  the  supposition  that  it  will  advantage  their  health.  Such 
practices  grew  originally  out  of  ignorance  and  false  theory,  and 
have  certainly  much  declined  m  recent  times ;  and  the  sooner  they 
are  wholly  abolished,  the  better  it  will  be  for  the  health  of  the  com- 
munity. If,  in  the  spring  of  the  year,  for  example,  when,  as  often 
happens,  the  appetite  diminishes,  and  some  lassitude  is  experienced, 
with  occasional  slight  headache,  and  a  few  pimples  appear  on  the 
face,  persons  would  confine  themselves  to  a  plain,  digestible  and 
laxative  diet,  and  exercise  fireely  in  the  open  air,  they  would  thus, 
and  without  violence  to  the  constitution,  more  effectually  establish 
their  health,  than  by  any  medicine,  or  courses  of  medicine,  which 
they  could  employ.  Be  it  ever  remembered,  that,  by  tampering 
with  what  are  called  preventive  medicines,  real  diseases  may  ulti- 
mately be  produced.  Let  me  here  be  understood,  however,  as  cen- 
suring only  the  injudicious  use  of  medicine  ;  there  are  states  of  the 
system,  in  which,  when  employed  under  the  superintendence  of 
those  who  understand  its  powers  and  its  application,  it  may  beget 
the  most  fortunate  results ;  but  it  is  too  potent  an  instniment  to  be 
ignorantly  tampered  with,  and  the  injmy  to  health  from  its  unskilful 
use  can  hardly  be  computed. 

The  free  employment  of  medicine  in  eai'ly  childhood  cannot  be 
too  strongly  censured.  Many  an  adult  owes  his  dispepsia,  and,  per- 
chance, numerous  other  physical  infirmities,  to  his  mother's  medi- 
cine closet. 

Some  children  are  virtually  brought  up  on  medicine.  If  the 
stomach  happens  to  be  slightly  disturbed,  or  the  belly  to  ache  a 
little,  a  stimulating  stomachic,  or  a  cathartic,  or,  may  be,  even  an 
emetic,  is  immediately  administered.  Stimulants  and  tonics,  too, 
are  far  too  freely  employed  in  childhood,  excitmg  the  stomach  to 
unnatural  efforts,  which  will  be  followed  by  a  con*espondent  de- 


J*"^^ 


NATIONAL   DEBTS.  81 

biJity ;  and,  when  persevered  in,  inevitably  occasion  a  permanent 
reduction  of  its  healthy  powers.  A  particular  medicine,  composed 
of  rum,  opium,  camphor,  and  a  few  other  stimulating  ingredients, 
called  pai-egoric,  finds  a  place  in  almost  every  nursery ;  and  with 
which  numerous  children,  in  the  early  years  of  their  exigence,  are 
very  bountifully  supplied.  The  opium  which  it  contains  serves  to 
soothe  pain,  and  lull  to  sleep ;  and  hence  arises  the  temptation  to 
its  use.  In  some  families,  it  is  not  only  administered  as  a  panacea 
for  almost  every  ailment,  but  is  also  made  subservient  to  the  con- 
venience of  attendants.  Though  a  child,  to  be  sure,  may  have  slept 
nearly  the  whole  day,  nevertheless  it  is  very  hard  that  a  mother  or 
nurse  should  be  disturbed  by  it  all  night,  when  so  certain  a  remedy 
is  at  hand.  Some  children  even  become  so  habituated  to  its  narcotic 
influence,  that  they  are  almost  uniformly  sleepless  and  irritable 
when  free  from  it.  An  important  evil,  too,  attendant  on  the  use  of 
this  compound,  is  its  tendency  to  constipate  the  bowels,  thus  beget- 
ting a  necessity  for  cathartics.  That  paregoric  may,  under  occa- 
sional circumstances,  be  useful  to  children,  I  shall  not  dispute ;  but 
its  habitual  employment  is  certainly  most  unnatural,  and  hazardous 
to  health.  It  is  important  that  tinctures  of  all  kinds  be  particularly 
avoided  in  childhood,  since,  in  addition  to  the  injury  which  they 
may  do  to  digestion,  they  tend,  in  a  measure,  to  educate  the  taste  to 
the  use  of  spirituous  druiks." — Dr.  Swtetser.  » 


NATIONAL  DEBTS. 

Hut  National  Debts  of  England  and  other  Countries,  in  1839,  with  the 
Proportion  which  falls  on  each  Individuvl,  in  Sterling  Money. 

Debt  per  head. 
£.  £.     S.     d, 

England, 800,000,000 32    0    0 

France, 194,400,000 5  19    7 

Russia, 35,550,000 0  11     9 

Austria,.....*. 77,100,000 2    7    6 

Prussia, 2J),701,000 2    7    7 

Netherlands, 148,500,000 23    5    5 

Spain, 70,000,000 5    0    8 

United  States, none 

Sicilies, 18,974,000 2  11     2 

Bavaria, 11,311,000 .2  16    0 

Sardinia, 4,584,000 112 

Turkey, 3,667,000 0    7    8 

Sweden, none 

Portugal, 5,649,000 12    6 

Denmark, 3,79f>,000 1  18    4 

Rome, 17,142,000 7    9    0 


»  THE    FAMILy    VISITOR.  ~ 

£.  £.  s.    d. 

Poland, 5,740,000 13    3 

Saxony, 3,300,000 2    9    1 

Hanover, 2,284,000 1  11     0 

Baden,.*. 1,670,000 19    2 

Wirtemburg, 2,505,000 1  12    7 

Tuscany, 1,384,000 1     4  11 

Hesse,  (Darmstadt,) 1,184,000 1     3  11 

Hesse,  (Electorate,) 220,000 0    6    1 

Switzerland, none 

Norway, 252,000 0    3     1 

Eastlndia  Company's  Territories,.. 47,609,000 0    9    0 


TRAVELLING  WITH  AN   OBJECT  IN  VIEW. 

The  celebrated  Sydenham  displayed,  as  a  late  writer  has  very 
aptly  remarked,  much  wisdom  and  addi-ess,  in  calling  into  action 
the  power  and  effects  of  gymnastic  medicine,  in  his  scheme,  which 
had  an  object  of  more  interest  in  view,  than  that  of  the  ancient  phy- 
sician, who  sent  his  patients  on  their  travels  without  any  other 
object  than  merely  touching  the  walls  of  Megara.  He  once 
acknowledged  to  a  patient  whom  he  had  long  attended,  that  he  was 
unable  to  render  him  any  further  service  ;  adding,  at  the  same  time, 
that  he  might  expect  benefit  from  a  personal  application  to  a  Dr. 
Robertson,  at  Inverness.     Encouraged  by  the  communication,  his 

Eatient  set  off  in  search  of  this  wonderful  Scotch  doctor ;  but,  on 
is  arrival  at  Inverness,  not  being  able,  after  diligent  inquiry,  to  find 
the  object  of  his  search,  he  immediately  returned  back  to  London, 
and  hurried  to  Sydenham,  to  reproach  him  for  trifling  with  him. 
"Well,"  replied  the  doctor,  "are  you  better  in  health?"  "Yes; 
I  am  now  pei-fectly  well ;  but  no  thanks  to  you."  "No!"  replied 
Sydenham ;  "  but  you  may  thank  Dr.  Robertson  for  curing  you.  I 
wished  to  send  you  on  a  distant  journey  with  some  object  of  interest 
in  view ;  I  knew  it  would  be  of  service  to  you.  In  going,  you  had 
Dr.  Robertson  and  his  wonderful  cures  in  contemplation ;  and  in 
returning,  you  were  equally  engaged  in  thinlcing  on  scolding  me." 


DOMESTIC  AFFECTION  IN  HIGH  STATION. 

The  following  letters  are  from  the  private  correspondence  of 
William  Pitt,  the  great  Lord  Chatham,  and  the  eloquent  cham- 
pion of  American  liberty. 


DOMESTIC   AFFECTION   IN   HiGH    STATION.  83 

On  the  14th  of  January,  1766,  the  House  met  again,  after  a  short 
adjournment,  and  on  the  address  beirg  moved,  Mr.  Pitt  made  a 
most  powerful  and  eloquent  speech,  'in  which,  after  denying  the 
constitutional  right  of  the  mother  country  to  tax  her  colonies  for  the 
support  of  her  domestic  expenditure,  he  concluded  with  recom- 
mending an  immediate  repeal  Of  the  act  that  had  occasioned  such 
complaints.  Many  and  vehement  were  the  debates  that  ensued  on 
the  question.  A  bill  was,  however,  ultimately  carried  for  repealing 
the  obnoxious  measure,  and  on  that  occasion  we  have  the  follovdng 
pleasing  letters  between  Mr.  Pitt  and  his  wife :  — 

Lady  Chatham  to  Mr.  Pitt. 

"  Hayes,  past  9,  Saturday,  Feb.  22,  1766. 

"  Joy  to  you,  my  dear  love.  The  joy  of  thousands  is  yours,  under 
Heaven,  who  has  crowned  your  endeavors  with  such  happy  success. 
May  the  Almighty  give  to  mine  and  to  the  general  prayers,  that 
you  may  wake  without  any  increased  gout,  or  any  cold  that  may 
threaten  it,  by  and  by !  I  will  hope  that  Mr.  Onslow  may  have 
been  a  true  prophet,  and  that  what  you  saw  yesterday,  and  what 
Johnson  tells  me  you  heard,  the  gratitude  of  a  rescued  people,  have 
cured  you. 

"  I  cannot  tell  you  with  what  pleasure  my  eyes  opened  upon  the 
news.  All  my  feelings  tell  me  that  I  hate  oppression,  and  that  I 
Jove  zealously  the  honor  of  my  dear  husband.  I  must  not  be  soriy 
that  I  do  not  see  you  to-day :  it  would  be  too  great  a  hurry,  and  it  is 
fit  you  should  rejoice  with  those  that  triumphed  under  you. 

"I  hope  little  Hester's  cough  is  something  better:  much  I  cannot 
say;  but  as  it  has  begun  to  yield,  I  trust  we  shall  soon  get  the  better 
of  it.  She  and  John  are  by  no  means  indifferent  to  the  news. 
William  I  have  not  yet  seen.  A  thousand  thanks  for  your  dear  note 
of  yesterday.  The  hounds  are  just  discovered  in  Dock-mead,  and 
have  animated  us  into  a  charming  noise ;  which  would  be  incon- 
venient, if  I  had  more  to  add,  than  that 

"X  am  your  ever  faithful  and  loving  wife, 

"  Chatham." 


Mr.  Pitt  to  Lady  Chatham. 

"  Feb.  22,past  4.,  1766. 

"Happy,  indeed,  was  the  scene  of  this  glorious  morning,  when 
the  sun  of  liberty  shone  once  more  upon  us.  My  dear  love,  not  all 
tlie  applauding  joy  which  the  hearts  of  animated  gi'atitude,  saved 
from  despair  and  bankruptcy,  uttered  in  the  lobby,  could  touch  me 
in  any  degree  like  the  tender  and  lively  delight  wljich  breathes  in 
your  warm  and  affectionate  note. 

"  All  together,  my  dearest  life,  makes  me  not  ill  to-day  after  the 
immense  fatigue,  or  not  feeling  that  I  am  so.  Wonder  not  if  I 
should  find  myself  in  a  placid  and  sober  fever,  for  tumultuous 
exultation  you  know,  I  think,  is  not  permitted  to  feeble  mortal  suc- 
cesses ;  but  my  delight,  heartfelt  and  solid  as  it  is,  must  want  its 
sweetest  ingredient  (if  not  its  very  essence)  till  I  rejoice  with  my 


U.. 


84  THE    FAMILY    VISITOR. 

angel,  and  with  her  join  in)  thanksgiving  to  protecting  Heaven  for  all 
our  happy  deliverances. 

"  Thank  you  for  the  sight'  of  Smith :  his  honest  joy  and  affection 
charm  me.  Loves  to  the  svv  ict  babes,  patriotic  or  not ;  though  I 
hope  impetuous  William  is  not  behind  in  feelings  of  that  find. 
Send  the  saddle  horses,  if  you  pjease,  so  as  to  be  in  to-morrow 
morning.  Youi*  ever-loving  husband, 

W.  Pitt." 


FASTING. 

"  Distinct  from  religious  ordinances  and  anchorite  zeal,  fasting 
has  been  frequently  recommended  and  practised,  as  a  means  of 
removing  incipient  disease,  and  of  restoring  the  body  to  its  cus- 
tomary healthful  sensations.  Howard,  the  celebrated  philanthropist, 
used  to  fast  one  day  in  the  week.  Franklin  for  a  period  did  the 
same.  Napoleon,  when  he  felt  his  system  unstrung,  suspended  his 
wonted  repasts,  and  took  exercise  on  horseback.  The  list  of  dis- 
tinguished names  might,  if  necessary,  be  increased ;  but  why  ad- 
duce authority  in  favor  of  a  practice  which  the  instinct  of  the  brute 
creation  leads  them  to  adopt,  whenever  they  are  sick  ?  Happily  for 
them,  they  have  no  meddling  prompters,  in  the  shape  of  well-mean- 
ing friends,  to  force  a  stomach  already  enfeebled,  and  loathing  its 
customary  food,  to  digest  this  or  that  delicacy  —  soup,  jelly,  custard, 
chocolate,  and  the  like.  It  would  be  a  singular  fashion,  and  yet  to 
the  full  as  rational  as  the  one  just  mentioned,  if  on  eyes  weakened 
by  long  exercise  in  a  common  light,  we  were  to  direct  a  stream  of 
blue,  or  violet,  or  red,  or  even  green  light  through  a  prism,  in  place 
of  keepuig  them  carefully  shaded  and  at  rest."  —  Journal  of  Htalth. 


NAPOLEON. 

As  Napoleon  Bonaparte  occupies  a  large  page  of  history,  as  a 
sovereign  in  Europe,  some  data  of  his  eventful  life  are  here  given. 
He  was  born  at  Ajaccio,  in  the  island  of  Corsica,  on  the  1.5th  of  Au- 
gust, 1769.  He  became  captain  in  the  army,  Feb.  6,  171)2 ;  general- 
in-chief  of  the  army  of  Italy,  Feb.  2.3,  1796;  first  consul,  August 
13,  1799 ;  consul  for  life,  August  2, 1802.  He  was  crowned  as  em- 
peror of  the  French,  Dec.  2,  1804 ;  abdicated  his  crown  at  Fon- 
tainebleau,  April  11,  1814.  He  mounted  the  throne  again,  March 
20,  1815  ;  abdicated  again,  June  22, 1815;  landed  at  St.  Helena,  Oct. 
16,  1815;  and  died  on  that  island,  May  5,  1821. 


WARM    BATHING.  '  85 


WARM  BATHDfG. 

Its  Advantages.  —  It  is  a  common  but  eiToneous  opinion,  that 
the  warm  bath  is  enfecbUng,  and  renders  the  person  using  it  more 
hable  to  take  cold.  In  times  of  remote  antiqtiity,  it  was  considered 
as  the  solace  of  toil,  and  resorted  to  with  a  view  to  renovate  vigor 
exhausted  by  exertion.  To  conduct  fhe  stranger  guest  to  a  warm 
bath,  and  anoint  him  with  fragrant  unguents,  previously  to  oiFering 
him  Ibod,  formed  part  of  the  rites  of  hosj)itality. 

By  a  wai-m  Imth  we  ai'e  to  imderstand  that  in  which  the  temper- 
ature ranges  from  88  to  i)8  degrees  of  Fahrenheit's  thermometer. 
Now,  this,  so  far  fi-om  heating  and  irritating  the  body,  has  a  most 
soothing  and  tranquillizing  eflect.  This  is  more  especially  obtained 
by  a  bath  at  from  90  to  95  Fahrenheit.  The  pulse,  on  immersion 
in  it,  is  rendered  slower,  and  the  respiration  more  equable.  If  the 
heat  be  above  98,  which  is  the  temperature  of  the  living  animal 
body,  or,  as  it  is  called,  blood  heat,  the  bath  becomes  a  hot  one  ;  we 
may  then  look  for  accelerated  pulse,  flushed  cheeks,  and  after  a 
while  a  copious  perspiration  bedewing  the  head  and  face. 

The  most  proper  time  for  using  the  warm  as  well  as  every  other 
kind  of  luith,  is  when  the  stomach  is  empty,  and  especially  an  hour 
or  two  before  dinner.  Many  persons  are  deterred  from  having 
recourse  to  it,  at  this  time,  by  the  fear  of  their  taking  cold  after- 
wards, in  consequence  of  exposure  to  the  open  air.  The  error 
here  proceeds  from  confounding  the  effects  of  over-heating  and 
fatigue,  after  violent  exercise,  with  those  produced  by  the  warm 
bath  ;  whereas  thej'  are  totally  dissimilar.  In  the  former  case,  the 
skin  is  cold,  and  weakened  by  excessive  perspiration,  and  doubly 
liable  to  suffer  from  reduced  atmospherical  temperature ;  —  in  the 
second,  or  iimnersion  in  warm  water,  the  heat  of  the  system  is  pre- 
vented from  escaping,  and  has  rather  a  tendency  to  accumulate  ; 
so  that,  in  fact,  the  living  body  is,  after  coming  out  from  this  kind  of 
bath,  better  prepared  to  resist  cold  than  before.  A  writer  on  this 
subject  very  properly  remarks,  —  "A  person  has  in  fact  no  more  oc- 
casion to  dread  catching  cold,  after  having  been  in  a  warm  bath,  than 
he  has  from  going  into  the  open  air,  on  a  fi"osty  morning,  after 
leaving  a  warm  bed." 

Most  persons  are  astonished  at  hearing  of  the  practice  of  the 
Russians,  wlio  rush  out  from  a  vapor  bath,  and  jump  into  the 
nearest  stream  of  water,  or  roll  themselves  in  the  snow.  Now,  in 
this  case,  the  impunity  with  which  they  expose  themselves  to  the 
extreme  cold  is  precisely  in  the  ratio  of  their  prior  excitation  by  a 
hot  bath.  Were  they,  immediately  after  stripping  themselves,  to 
])lunge  at  once  into  a  cold  stream,  rheumatisms  and  severe  cold 
would  be  the  consequence. 

The  more  vigorous  the  frame  and  active  the  circulation  of  an 
individual,  the  lower  may  be  the  temperature  of  tho  bath.  The 
aged,  and  the  feeble,  and  those  whose  hands  and  feet  are  habitually 
cold,  require  it  to  be  near  the  degree  of  blood  heat,  or  98  of  Fahr- 
enlieit.  The  two  best  criterions  to  regulate  the  warmth  of  the 
8 


86  THE    FAMILY    VISITOR. 

batb,  are,  tliat  the  pulse  should  not  be  made  to  beat  faster  than 
usual ;  and  that  no  unpleasant  sensations  of  heat  or  fulness  should 
be  felt  about  the  tein2)les  and  face. 

Its  Antiquity.  —  If  the  custom  of  bathing  be  not  coeval  with  the 
world,  its  origin  may  at  least  date  ii'om  a  very  early  epoch.  The 
means  which  it  furnished  of  purification  and  invigoration  seem  to 
have  been  first  adopted  by  the  inhabitants  of  middle  Asia,  placed  as 
they  were  under  a  sultiy  clime. 

The  people  of  the  first  ages  immersed  themselves  most  frequently 
in  rivers  or  in  tlie  sea  ;  and,  accordingly,  we  are  told  of  the  daughter 
of  Pharaoh  bathing  iu  the  Nile,  of  Nausicaa  and  her  companions,  as 
also  Agenor,  bathing  in  a  river,  and  of  the  Amazons  refreshiflg 
themselves  in  the  waters  of  Thermodon.  The  Greeks  plunged  tlieir 
tender  offspring  into  cold  torrents ;  and  Moschus  and  Theocritus 
make  Europa  bathe  in  the  Anaurus,  and  the  Spartan  girls  in  the 
Eurotas.  Domestic  baths,  suggested  by  the  wants  or  the  con- 
veniences of  life,  were  not  unknown  at  very  early  periods.  Diomed 
and  Ulysses  ai'e  represented  as  making  use  of  such  after  they  had 
washed  in  the  sea  ;  Andromache  prepared  warm  water  for  Hector, 
who  had  just  returned  from  battle ;  and  Penelope,  to  banish  sor- 
row, called  in  the  aid  of  unctions  and  baths.  Minerva,  at  Ther- 
mopylfe,  is  feigned  to  have  imparted,  by  such  means,  vigor  to  the 
weained  limbs  of  Hei'cules,  and,  in  place  of  other  gif^s,  Vulcan 
offered  him  warm  baths.  Pindar  praises  the  warm  bathings  of  the 
nymphs ;  and  Homer  himself,  who  ranked  baths  among  the  inno- 
cent pleasures  of  life,  not  only  m.akes  mention  of  a  hot  and  vapor- 
ous spring  adjoining  a  cold  one,  but  oven  describes  to  us  the  baths 
which,  by  common  tradition,  were  situated  near  the  Scamander,  in 
the  vicinity  of  Troy. 

Of  nearly  equal  celebrity  were  the  baths  of  the  Assyrians,  Medes 
and  Persians ;  and  to  such  a  pitch  of  grandeur  a)id  improvement 
were  they  carried  by  this  last  people,  that  Alexander  himself  was 
astonished  at  the  luxury  and  magnificence  of  those  of  Darius, 
tliough  accustomed  to  the  voluptuous  ones  of  Greece  and  Macedon. 
We  need  here  but  allude  to  the  natural  warm  baths  of  Bithjuia  and 
Mytilene,  mentioned  by  Pliny,  and  to  those  of  the  Eti'uscans,  as 
among  the  most  early  and  extensively  known  and  resorted  to.  — 
Journal  of  Health. 


SWIMMING. 

Swiramhig  has,  with  great  propriety,  been  pronoimced  "the  purest 
exercise  of  health  ;"  combining  in  itself  the  advantages  of  muscular 
exertion  with  those  of  bathing.  It  is  to  be  observed,  however,  that 
there  is,  perhaps,  no  exercise  which  calls  into  violent  action  a 
greater  number  of  muscles,  and  which,  therefore,  so  quickly  induces 
fatigue.     It  is  on  this  account,  independent  of  the  effects  of  the  cold 


SWIMMING.  87 

water  in  wliich  tlic  body  is  immersed,  an  amusement  but  ill  adapted 
to  the  ag<dd,  and  those  of  an  enfeebled  and  delicate  constitution." 
Even  by  the  young,  the  healthful,  and  robust,  it  should  not  be  car- 
ried too  far,  lest  injurj',  rather  than  benefit,  result  from  it. 

It  is  during  the  summer  season  alone,  that  this  species  of  exer- 
cise can,  witJi  propriety,  be  indulged  in.  Although  tlie  savage,  in 
northern  climates,  is  said  to  plunge  with  impunity,  at  every  season 
of  the  year,  into  the  coldest  stream,  yet  the  health,  if  not  the  life  of 
an  individual,  reared  amid  the  luxuries  and  refinements  of  civilized 
society,  would  be  endangered  were  he  to  attempt  a  similar  course. 

The  morning  is  undoubtedly  the  period  best  adapted  for  the  ex- 
ercise of  swimming ;  but  by  many,  an  hour  or  two  before  sunset 
ms  been  preferred,  the  water  having  then  acquired  a  con^dera- 
ble  degree  of  warmth  from  the  sun's  rays.  WTicn  the  former  period 
is  found  peculiarly  inconvenient,  the  latter  may  be  adopted,  rather 
than  the  exercise  should  be  entirely  abandoned.  During  the  mid- 
dle portions  of  the  day,  when  the  heat  is  oppressive,  to  swim  in  an 
open  river  would  be  attended  with  considerable  danger. 

Like  every  other  species  of  actiye  exercise,  the  one  under  con- 
sideration is  to  be  abstained  from  until  several  hours  after  eating. 

It  is  important  to  select  for  the  amusement  of  swimming  a  pure, 
running  sti-eam,  of  sufl5cient  depth,  and,  if  possible,  with  a  sandy 
shore  and  bottom.  Stagnant  and  thicWy-shaded  pools,  partjcidarly 
in  the  neighborhood  of  marshes,  ought  carefully  to  be  shunned. 

A  ridiculous,  and,  to  a  certain  extent,  dangerous,  idea  prevails 
with  many,  that  the  body  should  be  allowed  to  become  perfectly 
cool  previously  to  entering  the  water.  On  the  contrary,  it  will  very 
generally  be  found  highly  advantageous  to  partake  of  a  degi-ee  of 
exercise  before  immersion,  sufficient  to  produce  a  gentle  increase 
of  the  circulation  of  the  blood,  and  a  slight  augmentation  of  the 
heat  of  the  body.  But,  while  in  the  earlier  stages-  of  exercise, 
before  a  copious  perspiration  has  dissipated  tJie  heat,  or  the  system 
has  become  exhausted  by  fatigue,  an  individual  may  fearlessly 
plunge  into  the  water.  This  would  be  replete  with  danger,  if  prac- 
tised after  exercise  has  been  urged  so  far  as  to  occasion  profuse 
perspiration,  with  languor  and  fatigue.  Under  such  circumstances, 
the  heat  of  the  body  is  fast  sinking,  and  immersion  in  cold  water 
would  produce  a  severe  and  protracted  chill. 

Immediately  on  leaving  the  water,  the  body  should  always  be 
wiped  perfectly  dry  by  friction  with  a  coarse  towel ;  and  after 
dressing,  a  gentle  degree  of  exercise  ought  to  be  taken.  Nothing 
is  indeed  more  prejudicial  to' health,  than  sitting,  or  remaining  inac- 
tive, subsequently  to  bathing.  Walking  briskly  to  and  from  tlie 
plarc  M  I(  (  ii  (1  for  swimming,  particularly  if  it  be  at  a  reasonable 
dist;i!M  I  li I'ln  the  dwelling,  will  in  most  cases  be  the  best  exercise 
that  <  uu  be  adopted,  both  before  entering  and  after  coming  out  of 
the  water. 


88  THE    FAMILY    VISITOR. 


GENERAL  WOLFE  AND  GRAFS  ELEGX- 

From  an  admirable  lectm^  on  the  "  Romance  of  American  His- 
tory," by  W.  B.  Reed,  Esq.,  at  Philadelphia,  and  published  in  Wal- 
die's  Library,  we  extract  the  subjoined  traditionarj'^  anecdote  of 
General  Wolfe,  the  gallant  conqueror  of  the  less  fortunate,  but  not 
less  gallant  Montcalm,  Sept.  13, 1759.  The  youthful  general,  wedded 
to  glory  as  he  was,  and  standing  on  the  verge  of  fate,  had  yet,  it 
seems,  a  full  perception  of  the  beauties  of  the  finest  and  most  fin- 
ished poem  in  the  English  language. 

"  On  the  night  before  the  battle  of  the  Plains,  the  young  English 
general  passed  close  to  the  French  batteries,  in  a  boat,  on  a  visit  t* 
one  of  his  posts.  The  night  was  calm  and  serene.  The  crew  plied 
their  muffled  oars  as  they  passed,  concealed  by  the  deep  shadow 
which,  even  at  night,  the  citadel  of  Quebec  and  the  castle  of  St.  Louis 
casts  on  the  placid  waters  of  the  St.  Lawrence.  In  the  stern  of  the 
boat  sat  Wolfe  and  one  of  his  aids,  and  close  to  them  a  young  mid- 
shipman, the  cockswain  of  the  boat,  from  whom  the  legend  is  derived, 
an  anxious  listener  to  each  word  that  might  fall  from  his  general's 
lips.  And  of  what  was  he  conversing  ?  Was  it  of  the  next  day's 
doubtful  conflict?  Was  it  of  the  prospect  of  victory  or  defeat  ?  Was 
it  of  a  peerage,  or  of  Westminster  Abbey  ?  Was  it  of  the  foe,  within 
the  reach  of  whose  sentries  they  were  stealthily  passing  ?  It  was  of 
none  of  these  that  the  youthful  soldier  was  speaking.  His  thoughts 
were  of  distant  and  gentler  themes.  He  spoke  of  a  new  poem  that 
had  appeared  in  England  just  before  he  left  tliere  —  and  reciting 
each  stanza  of  'The  Elegy  in  a  Country  Churchyard,'  ex- 
claimed, when  he  had  finished  it, '  I  would  rather  have  written  that 
poem,  than  take  Quebec  to-morrow.' " 


Elegy  written  in  a  Country  Churchyard. 

The  curfew  tolls  the  knell  of  parting  day ; 

The  lowing  herd  winds  slowly  o'er  the  lea ; 
The  ploughman  homeward  plots  his  weaiy  way, 

And  leaves  the  world  to  darkness  and  to  me. 

Now  fades  the  glimmering  landscape  on  the  sight, 
And  all  the  air  a  solemn  stillness  holds ; 

Save  where  the  beetle  wheels  his  droning  flight. 
And  drowsy  tinkliugs  lull  the  distant  folds;  — 

Save  that,  from  yonder  ivy-mantled  tower. 
The  moping  owl  does  to  the  moon  complain 

Of  such  as,  wandering  near  her  secret  bower, 
Molest  her  ancient,  solitary  reign. 

Beneath  those  rugged  elms,  that  yew  tree's  shade, 
Where  heaves  the  turf  in  many  a  mouldering  heap. 

Each  in  his  narrow  cell  forever  laid. 
The  rude  forefathers  of  the  hamlet  sleep. 


GENERAL    WOLFE    AND    ORAV's    ELEGY.  '    "  89 

The  breezy  call  of  incense-breathing  mom, 

The  swallow  twittering  from  the  straw-built  shed, 

The  cock's  shrill  clarion,  or  the  echoing  horn, 
No  more  shall  rouse  them  from  their  lowly  bed. 

For  them  no  more  tlie  blazing  hearth  shall  bum, 

Or  busy  housewife  ply  her  evening  care  ; 
No  cj^ildren  run  to  lisp  their  sire's  return, 

Or  climb  his  knees  the  envied  kiss  to  share. 

Oft  did  the  harvest  to  their  sickle  yield  ; 

Their  furrow  oft  the  stubborn  glebe  has  broke : 
How  jocund  did  they  drive  their  team  afield ! 
*r  How  bowed  the  woods  beneath  their  sturdy  stroke ! 

Let  not  Ambition  mock  their  useful  toil. 

Their  homely  joys  and  destiny  obscure ; 
Nor  Grandeur  hear,  with  a  disdainful  smile, 

The  short  and  simple  annals  of  the  poor. 

The  boast  of  heraldry,  the  pomp  of  power, 
And  all  that  beauty,  all  that  wealth  e'er  gave, 

Await,  alike,  the  inevitable  hour ;  — 
The  paths  of  glory  lead  but  to  the  grave. 

Nor  you,  ye  proud,  impute  to  these  the  fault, 
If  memory  o'er  their  tomb  no  trophies  raise, 

Where,  through  the  long-drawn  aisle,  and  fretted  vault, 
The  pealing  anthem  swells  the  note  of  praise. 

Can  storied  urn,  or  animated  bust, 
Back  to  its  mansion  call  the  fleeting  breath  ? 

Can  Honor's  voice  provoke  the  silent  dust, 
Or  Flattery  soothe  the  dull,  cold  ear  of  death  ? 

Perhaps,  in  this  neglected  spot,'  is  laid 

Some  heart,  once  pregnant  with  celestial  fire ; 

Hands  that  the  rod  of  empire  might  have  swayed, 
Or  waked  to  ecstasy  the  living  lyre : 

But  Knowledge  to  their  eyes  her  ample  page, 
Rich  with  the  spoils  of  time,  did  ne'er  unrol ; 

Chill  Penury  repressed  their  noble  rage, 
And  froze  the  genial  current  of  the  soul. 

Full  many  a  gem,  of  purest  ray  serene. 
The  dark,  unfathonied  caves  of  ocean  bear; 

Full  many  a  flower  is  bora  to  blush  unseen. 
And  waste  its  sweetness  on  the  desert  air. 

Some  village  Hampden,  that,  with  dauntless  breast, 

The  little  tyrant  of  his  fields  withstood  ; 
Some  mute,  inglorious  Milton  here  may  rest ; 

Some  Cromwell,  guiltless  of  his  country's  blood. 
8» 


90  THE    FAMILY    VISITOR. 

The  applause  of  listening  senates  to  command, 
The  threats  of  pain  and  rnin  to  despise, 

To  scatter  plenty  o'er  a  smiling  land, 

And  read  their  histoi'y  in  a  nation's  eyes,  — 

Their  lot  forbade ;  nor  circumscribed  alone 

Their  growing  virtues,  but  their  crimes  confined ; 

Forbade  to  wade  through  slaughter  to  a  throne, 
And  shut  the  gates  of  mercy  on  mankind  ;  —  * 

The  struggling  pangs  of  conscious  Truth  to  hide. 
To  quench  the  blushes  of  ingenuous  Shame  ; 

Or  heap  the  shrine  of  Luxury  and  Pride 
With  incense  kindled  at  the  Muse's  flame. 

Far  from  the  madding  crowd's  ignoble  strife, 
Their  sober  wishes  never  learned  to  stray  : 

Along  the  cool,  sequestered  vale  of  life 
They  kept  the  noiseless  tenor  of  their  way. 

Yet  e'en  these  bones  from  insult  to  protect. 
Some  frail  memorial,  still  erected  nigh, 

With  uncouth  rhymes  and  shapeless  sculpture  decked, 
Implores  the  passing  tribute  of  a  sigh. 

Their  name,  their  years,  spelled  by  the  unlettered  Muse, 

The  place  of  fame  and  elegy  supply ; 
And  many  a  holy  text  around  she  strews. 

That  teach  the  rustic  moralist  to  die. 

For  who,  to  dumb  forgetfulness  a  prey, 

This  pleasing,  anxious  being  e'er  resigned, — 

Left  the  warm  precincts  of  the  cheerful  day,  — 
Nor  cast  one  longing,  lingering  look  behind  ? 

On  some  fond  breast  the  parting  soul  relies ; 

Some  pious  drops  the  closing  eye  requires ; 
E'en  from  the  tomb  the  voice  of  nature  cries, 

E'en  in  our  ashes  live  their  wonted  fires. 

For  thee,  who,  mindful  of  the  unhonored  dead. 
Dost  in  these  lines  their  artless  tale  relate. 

If,  chance,  by  lonely  Contemplation  led. 

Some  kindred  spirit  shall  inquire  thy  fate,  — 

Haply,  some  hoary-headed  swain  may  say, 
"  Oft  have  we  seen  him,  at  the  peep  of  dawn. 

Brushing,  with  hasty  steps,  the  dews  away, 
To  meet  the  sun  upon  the  upland  lawn. 

"  There,  at  the  foot  of  yonder  nodding  beech. 
That  wreathes  its  old,  fantastic  roots  so  high, 

His  listless  length  at  noontide  would  he  stretch, 
And  pore  upon  the  brook  that  babbles  by. 


ADVICE    OS   MARRIAGE.  91 

"Hard  by  yon  wood,  now  smiling,  as  in  scorn, 
Muttering  his  wayward  fancies,  he  would  rove ; 

Now  drooping,  woful  wan,  like  one  forlorn. 

Or  crazed  with  care,  or  crossed  in  hopeless  love. 

«*  One  morn  I  missed  him  on  the  accustomed  hill, 

Along  the  heath,  and  near  his  favorite  tree : 
Anotlier  came ;  nor  yet  beside  the  rill. 

Nor  up  the  lawn,  nor  at  the  wood  was  he. 

"The  next,  with  dirges  due,  in  sad  array. 

Slow  through  the  churchway  path  we  saw  him  borne. 
Approach  and  read  (for  thou  canst  read)  the  lay, 
^  Graved  on  the  stone  beneath  yon  aged  thorn." 

The  Epitaph. 

Here  rests  his  head  upon  the  lap  of  earth 

A  youth  to  fortune  and  to  fame  unknown : 
Fair  Science  frowned  not  on  his  humble  birth, 

And  Melancholy  marked  him  for  her  own. 

Large  was  his  bounty,  and  his  soul  sincere : 
Heaven  did  a  recompense  as  largely  send:  — 

He  gave  to  misery  all  he  had  —  a  tear ; 

He  gained  from  heaven — 'twas  all  he  wished  —  a  irieud. 

No  farther  seek  his  merits  to  disclose, 

Or  draw  his  frailties  from  their  dread  abode  — 

(There  they,  alike,  in  trembhng  hope,  repose,) 
The  bosom  of  his  Father  and  his  God. 


ADVICE  ON  MARRUGE, 

IVom  Patkick  Henry,  the   cdehraied   Statesman  and  Christian,  to 
his  only  Daughter. 

Mr  DEAR  Daughter:  —  You  have  just  entered  into  that  state 
which  is  replete  with  happiness  or  misery.  The  issue  depends  upon 
the  prudent,  amiable,  uniform  conduct,  which  wisdom  and  virtue  so 
strongly  recommend,  on  the  one  hand,  or  on  that  importance  which 
a  want  of  reflection  or  passion  may  prompt,  on  the  other. 

You  are  allied  to  a  man  of  honor,  of  talents,  and  of  an  open,  gen- 
erous disposition.  You  have,  therefore,  in  your  power  all  the  essen- 
tial ingredients  of  domestic  happiness:  it  cannot  be  marred,  if  you 
now  reflect  upon  that  sjetem  of  conduct  which  you  ought  invariably 
to  pursue  —  if  you  now  see  clearly  the  path  from  which  you  will 
resolve  never  to  deviate.    Our  conduct  is  often  tlie  result  of  whim 


92  THE    FAMILY    VISITOR. 

or  caprice,  often  such  as  will  give  us  many  a  pang,  unless  we  see 
beforehand  what  is  always  most  praiseworthy,  and  the  most  essential 
to  iiappiness. 

The  first  maxim  you  should  follow  is,  never  attempt  to  control 
your  husband  by  opposition,  by  displeasure,  or  any  other  mark  of 
anger.  A  man  of  sense,  of  prudence,  of  warm  feelings,  cainiot,  and 
will  not,  bear  an  opposition  of  any  kind,  which  is  attended  with  an 
angry  look  or  expression.  The  current  of  his  affections  is  suddenly 
stopped ;  his  attachment  is  weakened  ;  he  begins  to  feel  a  mortifica- 
tion the  most  pungent;  he  is  belittled  even  in  his  own  eyes;  and, 
be  assured,  the  wife  who  once  excites  those  sentiments  in  the  breast 
of  the  husband,  will  never  regain  the  high  ground  which  she  might 
and  ought  to  have  retained.  When  he  marries  her,  if  he  is  {i  good 
man,  he  expects  to  tind  in  her  one  who  is  not  to  control  him  —  not  to 
take  from  him  the  freedom  of  acting  as  his  own  judgment  shall  direct, 
but  one  who  will  place  such  confidence  in  him,  as  to  believe  that  his 
prudence  is  his  best  guide.  Little  things,  which  are,  in  reality,  merely 
trifles  in  themselves,  ofl:en  produce  bickerings,  and  even  quarrels. 
Never  permit  them  to  be  a  subject  of  dispute  ;  yield  them  with  plea- 
sure, and  with  a  smile  of  affection.  Be  assured  that  one  difference 
outweighs  them  all  a  thousand  or  ten  thousand  times.  A  difference 
with  your  husband  ought  to  be  considered  as  the  greatest  calamity  — 
as  one  that  is  to  be  studiously  guarded  against ;  it  is  a  demon 
which  must  never  be  permitted  to  enter  a  habitation  where  all  should 
be  peace,  unimpaired  confidence,  and  heartfelt  affection.  Besides, 
what  can  a  woman  gain  by  opposition  or  indiflTerence  ?  Nothing. 
But  she  loses  every  thing ;  she  loses  her  husband's  respect  for  her 
virtues ;  she  loses  his  love ;  and  with  that,  all  prospect  of  future 
happiness.  She  creates  her  own  misery,  and  then  utters  idle  and 
silly  complaints  ;  but  utters  them  in  vain.  The  love  of  a  husband 
can  be  retained  only  by  the  high  opinion  which  he  entertains  of  his 
wife's  goodness  of  heait,  of  her  amiable  disposition,  of  the  sweetness 
of  her  temper,  of  her  prudence,  of  her  devotion  to  him.  Let  nothing, 
upon  any  occasion,  ever  lessen  that  opinion.  On  the  contrary,  it 
should  augment  every  day :  he  should  have  much  more  reason  to 
admire  her  for  those  excellent  qualities  which  will  cast  a  lustre  over 
a  virtuous  woman  when  her  personal  attractions  are  no  more. 

Has  your  husband  staid  out  longer  than  you  expected  ?  When  he 
returns,  receive  him  as  the  partner  of  your  heart.  Has  he  disap- 
pointed you  in  something  you  expected,  whether  of  ornament,  or  of 
furniture,  or  of  any  convenience  ?  Never  evince  discontent ;  receive 
his  apology  with  cheerfulness.  Does  he,  when  you  are  a  house- 
keeper, invite  company  without  informing  you  of  it,  or  bring  home 
with  him  a  li-iend .'  Whatever  may  be  your  repast,  however  scanty 
it  may  be,  or  how  impracticable  it  may  be  to  add  to  it,  receive 
them  vnth  a  pleasing  countenance,  adorn  your  table  with  cheerful- 
ness, give  to  your  company  a  hearty  welcome :  it  will  more  than 
compensate  for  every  other  deficiency ;  it  will  evince  love  for  your 
husband,  good  sense  in  yourself,  and  that  politeness  of  manners 
which  acts  as  the  most  powerful  charm;  it  will  give  to  the  plainest 
fare  a  zest  superior  to  all  that  luxuiy  can  boast.  Never  be  discon- 
tented on  anv  occasion  of  this  natuijp. 


ADVICE    ON    MARRIAGE.  93 

In  the  next  place,  as  your  husband's  success,  in  his  profession,  will 
depend  i;pon  his  popularity,  and  as  the  niuniiers  of  a  wife  have  no 
little  influence  in  extending  or  lessening  the  respect  and  esteem  of 
others  for  her  husband,  you  should  take  care  to  be  affable  and  polite 
to  the  poorest  as  well  as  to  the  richest.  A  reserved  haughtiness  is  a 
sure  indication  of  a  weak  mind  and  an  unfeeling  heart. 

With  respect  to  your  servants,  teach  them  to  respect  and  love 
you,  while  you  ex^iect  from  them  a  reasonable  discharge  of  their  re- 
spective duties.  Never  tease  yourself,  or  them,  by  scolding  ;  it  has 
no  other  effect  than  to  render  them  discontented  and  impertinent. 
Admonish  them  with  a  calm  firmness. 

Cultivate  your  mind  by  the  perusal  of  those  books  which  instruct 
while  they  amuse.  Do  not  devote  much  of  your  time  to  novels ; 
tiiere  are  a  few  which  may  be  useful  and  in)pro\'ing  in  giving  a 
higher  tone  to  our  moral  sensibility ;  but  they  tend  to  vitiate  the 
taste,  and  to  produce  a  disrelish  for  substantial  intellectual  food. 
Most  plays  have  the  same  cast ;  they  are  not  friendly  to  the  delicacy 
which  is  one  of  the  ornaments  of  the  female  character.  History, 
geography,  poetry,  moral  essays,  biography,  travels,  sermons,  and 
other  well-written  religious  productions,  will  not  fail  to  enlarge  your 
understanding,  to  render  you  a  more  agreeable  companion,  and  to 
exalt  your  virtue.  A  woman  devoid  of  mtional  ideas  of  religion  has 
no  security  for  her  virtue ;  it  is  sacrificed  to  her  passions,  whose 
voice,  not  that  of  GJod,  is  her  only  governing  principle.  Besides,  in 
those  hours  of  calamity  to  which  families  must  be  exposed,  Avhere 
will  she  find  support,  if  it  be  not  in  her  just  reflections  upon  that  all- 
ruling  Providence  which  governs  the  universe,  whether  inanimate  or 
animate  f 

Mutual  politeness,  between  the  most  intimate  friends,  is  essential 
to  that  harmony  which  should  never  be  broken  or  interrupted.  How 
important,  then,  is  it  between  man  and  wife !  The  more  warm  the 
attachment,  the  less  will  either  party  bear  to  be  slighted,  or  treated 
with  the  smallest  degree  of  rudeness  or  inattention.  This  politeness, 
then,  if  it  be  not  in  itself  a  virtue,  is,  at  least,  the  means  of  giving  to 
real  goodness  a  new  lustre;  it  is  the  means  of  preventing  discontent, 
and  even  quarrels ;  it  is  the  oil  of  intercourse  ;  it  removes  asperities, 
and  gives  to  every  thing  a  smooth,  an  ev<n,  and  a  pleasing  movemeuL 

I  will  only  add,  that  matrimonial  happiness  does  not  depend  upon 
wealth  ;  no,  it  is  not  to  be  found  in  wealth  ;  but  in  minds  jiroperly 
tempered,  and  united  to  our  resjiective  situations.  Competency  is 
necessary ;  all  beyond  that  point  is  ideal.  Do  not  suppose,  however, 
that  I  would  not  advise  your  husband  to  augment  his  property  by  all 
honest  and  con)mendablc  means.  I  would  wish  to  see  him  actively 
engaged  in  such  a  pm-sult ;  because  engagement,  a  sedulous  employ- 
ment in  obtaining  some  laudable  end,  is  essential  to  happiness.  In 
the  attainment  of  a  fortune,  by  honorable  means,  a  man  desires  satis- 
faction in  self-applause,  as  well  as  from  the  increasing  estimation  in 
which  he  is  held  by  those  around  him. 

In  the  management  of  your  domestic  concerns,  let  prudence  and 
wise  economy  prevail.  Let  neatness,  order,  and  judgment  be  seen 
in  all  your  different  departments.  Unite  liberality  with  a  just 
frugality ;  always  reser^'c  something  for  the  hand  of  charity ;  and 


94  THE    FAMILY    VISITOR. 

never  let  your  door  be  closed  to  the  voice  of  suffering  humanity. 
Your  servants,  in  particular,  will  have  the  strongest  claim  upon  your 
charity.  Let  them  be  well  clothed,  nursed  iu  sickness,  and  never 
let  them  be  unjustly  treated. 


FEMALE  INFLUENCE  AND  ENERGY. 

**  I  have  observed  that  a  married  man,  falling  into  misfortune,  is 
more  a])t  to  retrieve  his  situation  in  the  world  than  a  single  one ;  chiefly 
because  his  spirits  are  soothed  and  relieved  by  domestic  endear- 
ments, and  his  self-respect  kept  alive  by  finding  that,  althougli  all 
abroad  be  darkness  and  humiliation,  yet  there  is  still  a  little  world  of 
love  at  home,  of  which  he  is  monarch ;  —  whereas,  a  single  man  is  apt 
to  run  to  waste  and  self-neglect ;  to  fancy  himself  lonely  and  aban- 
doned, and  his  heart  to  fall  to  ruins,  like  some  deserted  mansion,  for 
want  of  an  inhabitant.  I  have  often  had  occasion  to  remark  the  for- 
titude with  which  women  sustain  the  most  overwhelming  reverses 
of  fortune.  Those  disasters  which  break  down  the  spirit  of  a  man 
and  prostrate  him  in  the  dust,  seem  to  call  forth  all  the  energies  of 
the  softer  sex,  and  give  such  intrepidity  and  elevation  to  their  char- 
acter, that  at  times  it  approaches  to  sublimity.  Nothing  can  be  more 
touching  than  to  behold  a  soft  and  tender  female,  who  had  been  aU 
meekness  and  dependence,  and  alive  to  every  trivial  roughness,  while 
treading  the  prosperous  path  of  life,  suddenly  rising  in  mental  force 
to  be  the  comforter  and  supporter  of  her  husband  under  misfortune, 
abiding,  with  unshrinking  firmness,  the  bitterest  blasts  of  adversity. 
As  the  vine,  which  has  long  twined  its  graceful  foliage  about  the  oak, 
and  been  lifted  by  it  in  sunshine,  will,  when  the  hardy  plant  is  rifted 
by  the  thunder-bolt,  cling  around  it  with  its  caressing  tendrils,  and 
bind  up  its  shattered  boughs,  so  is  it  beautifully  ordered  by  Provi- 
dence, that  woman,  who  is  the  ornament  and  dependent  of  man  in 
his  happier  hours,  should  be  his  stay  and  solace  when  smitten  with 
sudden  calamity;  winding  herself  into  the  rugged  recesses  of  his 
nature,  tenderly  supporting  the  drooping  head,  and  binding  up  the 
broken  heart."  —  Washington  Ii-ving. 


HOME. 

"  O,  if  there  be  on  earth  a  spot 
Where  life's  tempestuous  waves  rage  not ; 
Or  if  there  be  a  charm,  a  joy. 
Without  satiety  or  alloy  ; 
Or  if  there  be  a  feeling  fraught 
With  every  fond  and  pleasing  thought ; 


DUTY    TOWARDS    GOD    AND    MAX.  -    95 

Or  if  there  Imj  a  hope  that  lives 

On  the  j)ure  happiness  it  gives, 

That  envy  touches  not  —  wliere  strife 

Ne'er  mingles  vvitli  the  cup  of  life ; 

Or  if  there  be  a  world  of  bliss, 

Of  peace,  of  love,  of  happinetis ; 

Or  if  there  be  a  refuge  liiir, 

A  safe  retreat  from  toil  and  care, 

Where  the  heart  may  a  dwelling  find, 

A  store  of  many  joys  coml)ined. 

Where  every  feeling,  every  tone, 

Best  harmonizes  witli  its  own, 

Whence  its  vain  wishes  ne'er  can  rove, — 

O,  it  is  Home  !  — a  home  of  love ! " 


DUTY  TOWARDS  GOD  AND  MAN 

"  Que*.    WTiat  is  thy  duty  towards  God  ? 

*^ns.  My  duty  towards  God  is,  to  believe  in  him ;  to  fear  him ; 
and  to  love  him  with  all  my  heai-t,  with  all  my  mind,  with  all  my 
soul,  and  with  all  my  strength ;  to  worship  him ;  to  give  him  thanks ; 
to  put  my  whole  trust  in  him  ;  to  c;ill  upon  him  ;  to  honor  his  Loly 
Name  and  his  Word ;  and  to  serve  him  truly  all  the  days  of  my  life. 

Ques.     What  is  thy  duty  towards  thy  neighbor  ? 

Ans.  My  duty  towards  my  neighbor  is,  to  love  him  as  myself,  and 
to  do  to  all  men  as  I  would  they  should  do  unto  me ;  to  love,  honor, 
and  succor  my  father  and  mother ;  to  honor  and  obey  the  civil  au- 
Aority ;  to  submit  myself  to  all  my  governors,  teachere,  spiritual 
pastors,  and  masters ;  to  order  myself  lowly  and  reverently  to  all 
my  betters;  to  hurt  nobody  by  word  or  deed;  to  be  true  and  just 
in  all  my  dealings;  to  bear  no  malice  or  hatred  in  my  heart;  to 
keep  my  hands  from  picking  and  stealing,  and  my  tongue  from  evil 
speaking,  lyitig,  and  slandering ;  to  keep  my  body  in  temperance, 
Bubenifss,  and  chastity ;  not  to  covet  nor  desire  other  men's  goods ; 
but  to  learn  and  labor  truly  to  get  mine  own  living,  and  to  do  my 
duty  iu  that  state  of  life  unto  which  it  shall  please  God  to  call  me." 


A  TABLE 

For  tdliitg  the  Weather  through  all  the  Lmnations  of  each  Year  forever. 

This  table  and  the  accompanying  remarks  are  the  result  of  many 
years'  actual  observation ;  the  whole  being  constructed  on  a  due  con- 


9G 


THE    FAMILY    VISITOR. 


sideration  of  the  attraction  of  the  sun  and  moon,  in  their  several 
positions  respecting  the  eartli,  and  will,  by  simple  inspection,  sliovv 
the  observer  what  kind  of  weather  will  most  probably  follow  the 
entrance  of  the  moon  into  any  of  its  quarters,  and  that  so  near  the 
truth,  as  to  be  seldom  or  never  found  to  fail. 

This  table  was  originally  formed  by  Dr.  Herschel,  and  approved, 
with  some  alterations,  by  the  experience  of  Dr.  Adam  Clarke. 


TIME    OF   CHANGE. 


IN    SUMMER. 


IN    WINTER. 


•S  n 
v.- 9- 


•-    3 


Between  midnight  and  ) 
two  in  the  morning,    ^ 

2  and  4,  morning;  < 

4  and  6     " 

6  and  8     « 

8  and  10      " 

10  and  12     " 

At  12  o'clock  at  noon,  ) 

and  2,  P.  M.  S 

Between  2  and  4,  P.  M. 

4  and  C,      " 

G  and  8,     "< 

8  and  10,      " 

10  and  midnight, 


Fair. 

Cold,  with  frequent , 
showers.  ] 

Rain. 

Wind  and  rain. 

Changeable.  < 

Frequent  showers. 

Very  rainy. 

Changeable. 

Fair. 

Fair,  if  wind  N.  W.- 

Rainy,  ifS.  or  S.W.^ 

Do. 

Fair. 


Hard  frost,  unless  the  wind 
be  S.  or  W. 

Snow  and  stormy. 

Rain. 

Stormy. 

Cold  rain,  if  wind  bo  W. ; 

snow,  if  E. 
Cold  and  high  wind. 

Snow  or  rain. 

Fair  and  mild. 

Fair. 

Fair   and   frosty,   if  wind 

N.  or  N.  E. 
Rain  or  snow,  if  S.  or  S.  W. 
Do. 
Fair  and  frosty. 


Observations.  1.  The  nearer  the  time  of  the  moon's  change,' 
first  quarter,  full,  and  last  quarter  are  to  midnight,  the  fairer  will 
the  weather  be  during  tlie  seven  days  following. 

2.  The  space  lor  this  calculation  occupies  Irom  ten  at  night  till 
two  next  morning. 

3.  Tlie  nearer  to  mid-dai/  or  noon,  the  i)hases  of  the  moon  happen, 
the  more  Ibul  or  wet  weather  may  be  expected  during  the  next  seven 
days. 

4.  The  space  for  this  calculation  occupies  from  ten  in  the  forenoon 
to  two  in  the  afternoon.  These  observations  refer  principally  to  the 
summer,  though  they  affect  spring  and  autumn  nearly  in  the  same 
ratio. 


WASHINGTON  A  FARMER. 


The  fame  of  General  Washington,  as  a  soldier  and  statesman,  is 
universally  known  and  highly  admired  by  all  who  appreciate  talents, 
worth,  and  love  of  country;  but  iiis  character,  as  a  farmer,  was  less 
known  in  his  day ;  and  his  memory,  in  this  respect,  is  not  venerated 


A     RICH     BANKER     A     FARMER.  97 

according  to  its  desert.  Possessing  ample  means,  and  the  most  ardent 
love  of  rural  life,  he  was  one  of  the  first  experimental  and  practical 
farmers  in  Virginia.  His  estate  at  Mount  Vernon  consisted  of  10,000 
acres  of  land  in  one  hody,  equal  to  about  fifteen  miles  square.  It  was^ 
divided  into  farms  of  convenient  size,  at  the  distance  of  two,  three, 
four,  and  five  miles  from  his  mansion-house.  These  farms  he  visited 
every  day,  in  pleasant  weather,  and  was  constantly  engaged  iu 
making  experiments  for  the  improvement  of  agriculture. 

Some  idea  of  the  extent  of  his  farming  operations  may  be  formed 
from  the  following  facts:  In  1782,  he  had  500  acres  in  grass, 
sowed  600  bushels  of  oats,  700  acres  with  wheat,  and  preufred 
as  much  for  corn,  barley,  potatoes,  beans  and  peas,  &c.,  and  150 
with  turnips.  His  stock  consisted  of  140  horses,  112  cows,  285 
working  oxen,  heifers,  and  steers,  and  500  sheep.  He  constantly 
employed  250  hands,  and  kept  24  ploughs  going  during  the  whole 
year,  when  the  earth  and  the  state  of  the  weather  would  permit.  In 
1786,  he  slaughtered  150  hogs,  weighing  18,560  lbs.,  for  the  use  of 
liis  family,  besides  provisions  for  his  negroes.  —  Silk  Culturist, 


A  RICH  BANKER  A  FARMER. 

Stephen  Girard,  the  great  merchant  and  banker,  was  a  great 
and  successful  farmer.  He  owned  a  farm  o£  several  hundred  acres 
of  land,  wthin  a  few  miles  of  Philadelphia,  the  cultivation  of  which 
he  sui)eriutended  with  his  usual  industry  and  acuteness.  This  farm 
was  his  principal  hobby  ;  for,  every  day,  at  one  o'clock  precisely,  his 
gig  was  m  waiting  for  him,  at  his  counting-house  door,  and  as  soon 
as  the  clock  struck  one,  he  started  for  his  farm,  not  suffering  any 
matter  whatever  to  interfere  with  his  daily  visit  During  the  after- 
noon, he  gave  his  personal  attention  to  tlie  various  agricultui'al 
affairs  requiring  it,  plying  his  own  hands  to  any  and  every  kind  of 
business  that  was  iu  season.  In  the  evening,  he  returned  to  the  city 
to  lodge,  and  the  return  of  daylight,  the  next  morning,  would  find 
him  again  engaged  in  the  labors  of  his  farm,  which  he  would  intermit 
so  as  to  be  iu  the  city  by  nine  o'clock,  to  attend  to  his  extensive  and 
well-managed  commercial  and  banking  concerns,  and  at  one  o'clock 
he  was  again  on  his  way  to  his  farm.  He  followed  out  this  routine 
for  twenty  or  thirty  years,  permitting  no  part  of  his  business  to  suffer 
from  neglect  or  want  of  attention.  His  farm  presented  a  perfect 
model  for  imitation.  His  grain-fields,  grass-grounds,  orchard,  and 
garden  exhibited  the  most  luxuriant  and  perfect  appearance,  while 
his  stock  of  every  kind,  and  poulti-y  in  all  their  varieties,  were  the 
finest  and  most  perfect  that  were  to  be  found  in  the  country. — 
PkUadelpkia  Farmer'B  Cabinet. 
9 


^-.  .C* 


98 


THE    FAMILY    VISITOR. 


POPULATION  OF  THE  WORLD. 


FROM  THE  LATEST  AND  BEST   AUTHORITIES, 


EUROPE. 


Stales. 


*  England, 

5  Wales, 

\  Scotland, 

(  Ireland, 

Denmark, 

Sweden, 

Norway, 

Russia, 

Poland, 

Cratow, 

Turkey  in  Europe,. . . 

Greece, 

Ionian  Isles, 

Sardinia, 

Parma, 

Modeua, 

Lucca, 

Monaco, 

San  Marino, 

Tuscany, 

Slates  of  the  Church, 
Two  Sicilies,  > 

(Sicily  and  Naples,)  ) 

Portugal, 

Spain, 

Andora,  (Spain,) 

Austria 

Prussia, "... 

Holland, 

Belgium, 

France, 

Switzerland, 

Bavaria, 

Wurtemburg,. . '. 

Hanover, 

Saxony, 

Baden, 

Hesse-Darmstadt,. . . . 

Hesse-Cassel, 

Saxe-Weimar, 

Mecklenburg-Schwerin, 
Mecklenburg-Strelitz, . . 

Oldenburg, 

Nassau, 

Brunswick, 

Saxe-Cobourg-Gotha,. . . 

Saxe-Meiningen, 

Saxe-Altenburg, 

Anhalt- Dessau, 

Anhalt-Bernburg, ...... 

Anhalt-Cothen, 

Reuss,  Elder  Line. 

Reuss,  Younger  Line,.. 
Re\iss,  Loben-Ebersdorf, 

Schw.  Rudolstadt, 

Schw.  Sonderhausen,  .. 
Llppe-Detmold, 


Geo. 
Sq.  Miles. 


58,335 

8,125 

27,780 

30,000 

16,500 

127,000 

96,000 

1,499,000 

36,700 

373 

112,500 

11,800 

754 

21,000 

1,660 

1,570 

312 

38 

17 

6,324 

13,000 

31,460 

29,150 

137,400 

144 

194,500 

80,450 

8,326 

9,700 

154,000 

11,200 

22,120 

5,720 

11,125 

4,341 

4,480 

2,826 

3,344 

1,070 

3,582 

578 

1,880 

1,446 

1,136 

731 

691 

397 

261 

253 

240 

109 

156 

182 

306 

270 

330 


Population. 


13,366,335 

805,236 

2,305,807 

7,734,000 

1,992,723 

2,751,582 

1,050,132 

59,575,000 

4,035,700 

114,000 

9,476,000 

635,000 

200,000 

4,333,966 

440,000 

380,000 

143,000 

6,500 

7,000 

1,300,000 

2,590,000 

7,420,000 

3,530,000 

13,953,959 

15,000 

32,133,037 

12,833,338 

2,747,204 

3,816,000 

32,500,934 

2,035,814 

4,070,000 

1,562,033 

1,550,000 

1,414,428 

1,141,727 

700,000 

718,000 

222,000 

431,000 

77,000 

241,000 

337,000 

242,000 

145,000 

130,000 

107,000 

56,000 

38,000 

34,000 

24,100 

30,000 

27,500 

57,000 

48,000 

76,000 


Capitals. 


>  London, 

Copenhigen,..., 

Stockholm, 

Bergen, 

St.  Petersburgh, 

Warsaw, 

Cracow, 

Constantinople,. 

Argos, 

Corfu, 

Turin, 

Parma, 

Modena, 

Lucca, 

Monaco, 

San  Marino,.... 

Florence, 

Rome,... 

Naples, 

Lisbon, 

Madrid, 

Andora, 

Vienna, 

Berlin, 

Amsterdam, . . . . 

Brussels 

Paris, 

Zurich, 

Munich, 

Stuttgard 

Hanover, 

Dresden 

Karlsruhe, 

Darmstadt, 

Cassel, 

Weimar, 

Schwerin 

N.  Strelitz, 

Oldenburg, 

Wiesbaden, .... 

Brunswick, 

Gotha, 

Meiningen, 

Altenburg, 

Dessau, 

Bernburg, 

Cothen, 

Greitz, 

Schleitz, 

Eberidorf, 

Rudolstadt, 

Sonderhausen,.. 
Detmold, 


POPULATION    OF    THE    WORLD. 


99 


StaUt. 


I  Lippe-Scbaulienburg, . . 

^  I  Waldeck, 

^  Hobenzol.  Sigmaringen, 
g     Hoheozol.  Hechingen,.. 

O  I  Lichtenstein 

o     Hesse-Homburg, 

g     Frankfort, 

g     Bremen, 

^     Hamburg, 

O     Lubec, 

.Knipbausen,  Lordship,. 


q^Hts.      ''"P*^-^- 


157 

347 

293 

82 

40 

135 

60 

51 

114 


26,000 
54,000 
38,000 
15,000 

6,000 
21,000 
54,000 
50,000 
148,000 
46,000 

3,859 


CapiltUs. 


Buckeburg,.. 
Corbach, . . . .' 
Sigmaringen, 
Hechingen,.. 
Lichtenstein, 
Homburg, ... 
Frankrnrt,... 

Bremen, 

Hamburg, . . . 

Lub«c, 

Kniphausen,. 


Population. 


2,000 

2,000 

80a 

3,000 

700 

3,000 

48,000 

38,000 

112,000 

22,000 

100 


ASIA. 


StaUs. 


Chinese  Empire, 

Empire  of  Japan, 

Annam, 

Kingdom  of  Siam, 

Birman  Empire, 

British  Posaessions, 

BriUsb  E.  I.  Co.  Territories, 
E.  I.  Co.  Dependencies,... 

Island  of  Ceylon, 

Kingdom  of  Sindia, 

Nepaul, 

Confederacies  of  the  Sikhs, 

Triumv.  of  Lindby, 

Kingdom  of  Cabaul 

Beloocbistan, 

Kingdom  of  Herat 

Persia,. 

Khanate  of  Boukhara, 

Khiva, 

Khokhan, 

Imviate  of  Mascate, 

Yemen, 

Turkey  In  Asia, 

Russia  in  Asia, 

Portuguese  Asia, 

French  Asia, 


Oeol 
Sq.MUes. 


4,070,000 

180,000. 

270,000 

124,000 

140,000 

849,650 

349,000 

485,000 

15,650 

29,760 

40,000 

66,000 

40,000 

172,000 

110,000 

50,000 

350,000 

173,000 

145,000 

100,000 

39,000 

40,000 

556,000 

4,006,000 

3,700 

400 


Inhabitants. 


170,000,000 

25,000,000 

14,000,000 

3,000,000 

3,500,000 

114,430,000 

80,800,000 

32,800,000 

830,000 

4,000,000 

2,500,000 

5,500,000 

1,000,000 

6,500,000 

2,000,000 

1,500,000 

9,000,000 

2,500,000 

800,000 

1,000,000 

1,600,000 

2,500,000 

12,500,000 

3,415,000 

500,000 

179,000 


Cldef  Cities. 


Pekin........ 

Jeddo, 

Phuxuan,.... 
Bancock,.... 
New  Ava,... 
Calcutta,.... 

Candy. 

Ougein, 

Katmandou,. 
Amretsin, . . . 
Heider  Abad, 

Cabaul 

Kelat 

Herat, 

Teheran,.... 
Boukkaia, ... 

Khiva, 

Khokhan,.... 
Mascate, .... 

Szanna, 

Koutahicb, .. 

Tobolsk, 

Goa, 

Pondicherry,. 


Population. 


1,200,000 

1,100,000 

100,000 

90,000 

50,000 

500,000 


100,000 
12,000 
40,000 
50,000 
80,000 
20,000 
100,000 
150,000 
80,000 
10,000 
60,000 
60,000 
30,000 
50,000 
25,000 
18,000 
40,000 


1 


AFRICA. 


Stales. 


Empire  of  Morocco,.. »,. . 

Slate  of  Tunis, }?.. 

Tripoli, 

Kingdom  of  Tigree, 

Amharra,. . . 

Empire  of  Bornou, 

Felatahs 

Bamttarra, 

Fouta  Tora, 

Aihantee, 

Dahomy, 

Benin, 

Kingdom  of  Cbangamera. 

Madagascar, 

Ottoman  AfVica, 

Portuguese  do 

English       do 

Sjianish       do 

French        do 

Algiers, ,. 


Oea. 
Sq.  Miles. 


130,000 

40,000 

208,000 

130,000 

48,000 

100,000 

120,000 

50,000 

15,000 

100,000 

40,000 

63,000 

70,000 

100,000 

367,000 

389,000 

91,000 

2,4.'» 

3,000 

70,000 


TnAabitanls. 


4,500,000 
1,800,000 

660,000 
1,500,000 
1,000,000 
2,000,000 
3,000,000 
1,500,000 

700,000 
3,000,000 

900,000 
1,500,000 

840,000 
2,000,000 
3,000,000 
1,440,000 

370,000 

208,000 

135,000 
1,500,000 


Chusf  Cities. 


Mequinez,..! 

Tunis, 

Tripoli, 

Cbelicut, 

(londar, 

Kouka, 

Sacatoo, 

Sego,..'..'. 

Tjilgoa, 

Eoomanie, 

Abomey, 

Benin, 

Ziinbaoe. 

Port  Dauphin, 

Cairo, >.. 

St.  Paul  de  Loanda. 

Cape  Town, ' 

Ceuta, 

St.  Louis, 

Algiers, 


70,000 
100,000 
15,000 

8,000 
40,000 
30,000 
80,000 
30,000 

4,000 
15,000 
24,000 
60,000 

30,000 
980,000 

18,000 
7,000 
10,000 
50,000 


100 


THE    FAMILY    VISITOR. 


AUSTRALASIA. 

[Australasia,  or  Oceanica,  the  fifth  division  of  tlie  globe,  was  at  first  called  Southern  In- 
dia, and,  on  account  of  its  numerous  islands,  Poly7iesia,  or  the  Island  world.  Some 
islands  of  this  portion  of  the  globe  were  discovered  by  Magellan,  a  Portuguese,  in  the 
service  of  Spain,  as  early  as  1521.  It  takes  its  name  from  its  southern  position 
with  regard  to  the  old  world.  In  the  17tli  century,  the  Dutch  began  to  explore  this 
part  of  the  ocean,  and,  besides  several  small  islands,  discovered  the  large  island  of 
New  Holland.  Cook,  who  circumnavigated  the  world  from  17C8  to  1779,  made  many 
discoveries  in  this  region,  among  which  were  New  Caledonia  and  the  Sandwich 
Islands.] 


Slates, 


Kingdom  of  Siak,  (Sumatra,).. 

Acheen,  (do.)  ... 

Borneo, 

■  Mindanao, 

Solou, 

the  Sand.  Islands,, 

Java,  Sumatra,  (Dutch,) 

Philippine  Islands,  (Spanish,).. 

Australia,  (New  Holland,) 

Timor,  (Portuguese  Part,) 


Oeo. 
Sq.  Miles. 


20,000 
16,000 
20,000 
12,000 
11,000 

5,100 

203,000 

39,000 

1,496,000 

8,000 


Inhabitants. 


600,000 

500,000 

260,000 

360,000 

300,000 

130,000 

9,360,000 

2,640,000 

60,000 

137,000 


Chitf  Cities. 


Siak, 

Telosancaouay 

Borneo, 

Selangan, 

Bevan, 

Hanarura, 

Batavia, 

Manilla, 

Sydney, 

Dille, 


NORTH  AMERICA. 


States. 


UNITED  STATES. 

Republic  of  the  United  States,. 
Indians  iu  the  United  States,.. 

MEXICO. 

Mexico, 

Puebla, 

Guanaxuato 

Michoacan, 

lalisco, 

Zacatecas, 

Oaxaca, 

Yucatan, ....« 

Tabasco,.; 

Chiapas, 

Vera  Cruz, 

Queretaro, '•" 

San  Luis  Potosl, 

Tamaulipas, 

Durango, 

Chihuahua, 

Sonora  and  Sinaloa,.... 

New  Leon, 

Coabuila 

Territory  of  Santa  Fe, 

Upper  California,. 

__ Lower  California,., 

Ilascala, 

Colima, 

Texas, 

Central  Amebic*, 

Russian  Pos»es9IO««, 

BRITISH  POSSESSIONS. 

New  Britain,  (Hudson's  Bay,).. 

Lower  Canada, 

Upper  Can^a 


Sq.  Miles.     Inhabitants. 


1,009,234 


30,482 

18,431 

6,255 

24,166 

72,379 

17,580 

32,697 

79,534 

14,676 

18,750 

27,660 

13,482 

19,017 

35,121 

54,800 

107,584 

254,705 

21,200 

193,600 

214,800 

376,344 

57,021 

10 

10 

240,000 

148,000 

612,297 


2,841,443 
290,934 
110,055 


12,859,194 
313,130 


1,100,000 

894,000 

600,000 

385,000 

595,000 

230,298 

600,000 

450,000 

78,056 

93,750 

156,740 

500,000 

174,957 

166,824 

200,000 

160,000 

188,636 

113,419 

125,400 

150,000 

25,400 

13,419 

6,000 

5,000 

65,000 

1,550,000 

65,000 


900,003 
517,'239 
306,544 


CAJ</"  Cities. 


Washington,. 


Mexico, 

Puebia, 

Guanaxuato, .... 

Valladolid, 

Guadalaxara,.... 

Zacatecas, 

Oaxaca, 

Merida, 

Hermosa, 

Chiapas, 

Jalapa, 

Queretaro....... 

.San  Luis  Potosi, 
Tamaulipas,.... 

Durango, 

Chihuahua, 

Sinaloa, 

Monterey. 
Leona  Vlcarlo,.. 

Santa  Fe, 

Monterey, 

lioreto. 

Tlascala, , 

Colima, , 

Houston, 

Gautemada, , 

St.  Paul, , 


Churchill, , 
Quebec,... 
York, 


4.    • 


POPULATION    OP    THE    WORLD. 


101 


Statu. 


Sq.  Milu. 


New  Brunswick, 

Nova  Scotia, 

NewToundland,  &c., 

In  Yucatan  and  Honduras,. . . . 

Gbeeklano,  (Danisli,) 

Panama,  (N.  and  8.  America,), 


24,500 

30,600 
485,149 

10,000 
K8,960 

24,300 


IniabUanU. 


70,000 
130,000 

40,000 
1,000 

40,000 
100,085 


Chief  Cities. 


Frederickton,. 

Halifax, 

St.  John, 

Balize. 

New  Harnbut, 
Panama,. 


Pep- 

ulatum. 

500 
16,3!£2 
12,000, 

700 
10,000 


SOUTH  AMERICA. 


States. 


COLOMBIA. 

Magdalena, 

Zulia, 

Venezue  la, 

Maturin, 

Cauca, 

Cundinamarka, 

Bo^c, 

Orinoco, 

Guayaquil, , 

Equador, , 

Aasuay, 


BOLIVIA. 

La  Paz, 

Moxoa, 

Cbiquitos, , 

Santa  Cruz,  or  Puno,.. 

Cochabaroba, 

Cbarcas, 

Potoei, 


BRAZIL. 

Para, 

Matto-Groeso, 

Guias, 

Maranham, 

Piauhi, 

Ceara, 

Pernambuco, 

Bahia, 

Minax  Gereas, 

Bio  Janeiro, 

St.  Paul, 

Rio  Grande, 


LA  PLATA. 

Buenos  Ayres, , 

Cordova, 

Mendoza, 

Entre  Rio«, 

Corrientes, 

Tucumana, y 

Salta  and  Chaco, 


Bai«da  OaiBitTAi.,, 

Paeaodat, 

Pcau, 

Chili, 

OCATARA, 


Sq.  Miles. 


9* 


53,400 
29,100 
43,700 
48,600 
53,600 
76,600 
195,000 
332,000 
14,200 
58,700 
251,700 


50,000 
75,000 
65,000 
35,000 
25,000 
29,500 
105,000 


1,150,000 
575,000 
330,000 

95,000 

90,000 
.  45,000 
122,000 
140,000 
172,000 

25,000 
150,000 

95,000 


280,000 
138,000 
117,000 
33,000 
32,000 
112,000 
200,000 

80,000 

94,000 

450,000 

250,000 

110,000 


Inhabitajits. 


176,988 
120,960 
326,840 

86,017 
149,342 
391,426 
409,991 
125,822 

73,488 
307,614 
127,894 


300,000 
87,000 
85,000 
279,000 
287,000 
250,000 
350,000 


360,000 
200,000 
200,000 
150,000 
100,000 
50,000 
500,000 
160,000 
460,000 
700,000 
460,000 
150,000 


275,000 
138,000 
160,000 
180,000 
78,000 
240,000 
160,000 

100,000 

250,000 

1,700,000 

1,400,000 

900,000 


Chirf  Cities. 


Cartajena,. , 
Maracaibo,. 
Caraccas,.., 
Cumana,... 
Popayan,.., 

Bogota, 

Tunja, 

Angostura,. 
Guayaquil,.. 

auito, 

Cuenca,..., 


La  Paz, 

Conreica, 

Santiago, 

Santa  Cruz, .. 
Coctaabamba,. 
Chuquiaaca,.. 
Potosi, 


Para, 

Villa  Bella,.. 
Villa  Boa,... 
Maranham,. . 
Oeyraa. 
Aracaty. 
Pernambuco,. 

Bahia, 

Villa  Rica,... 
Rio  Janeiro,., 

St.  Paul, 

Port  Allegre. 


Buenos  Ayres, 
Cordova. 
Mendoza, .... 
Santa  Fe,  . . . . 
Corrientes. 
St.  Miguel. 
Balta, 

Montevideo,. . 

Assumption,.,, 

Lima, 

Santiago,....., 

P&iamaribo, . . , 


vm 


THE    FAMILY    VISITOR. 


WEST  INDIES. 


StaU*. 


Cuba  Pinos,  &c 

Porto  Rico 

Hayti, 

Jamaica, 

Trinidad, , 

Bahamas , 

Carribbees, , 

French  Possessions, 
Dutch  do. 

Danish         do. 
Bnrediah       do. 


.  MUes. 

Inhabitants. 

Chief  Cities. 

64,975 

750,000 

Ilavanna, 

4,797 

95,000 
950,000 

St.  Juan, 

28,300 

Port  au  Prince,.... 

7,350 

380,000 

Kingston, 

3,200 

30,000 

Port  Spain, 

3,000 

4,500 

New  Providence,.. 

2,4-30 

364,829 

Bridgetown, 

3,000 

374,970 

Basseterre 

1,190 

55,000 

Amsterdam, 

263 

53,8  ]0 

Christianstadt,.... 

90 

4,002 

Port  Franco. 

Pop- 
ulation. 

130,000 
20,000 
30,000 
33,000 
13,000 
2,000 
18,000 
12,000 
8,000 
6,000 


SUMMARY 

OF   THE   POPULATION   OF    THE    WORLD. 

Square  Miles.  Population.  Pop.  to  Sq.  Mile. 

Europe, 2,794,052 231,286,914 83  49-100 

Asia 12,404,160 501,384,000 40  42-100 

Africa, 2,136,430 31,453,000 14  72-100 

Australasia, 1,830,100 14,347,000 7  84-100 

North  America, 7,811,459 23,039,599 2  94-100 

South  America, 6,426,100 12,805,289 1  99-100 

West  Indies 118,585 3,061,411 25  81-100 


33,520,886 817,377,213 24  38-100 

Assuming  it  as  a  fact,  that  the  earth  contains  a  population  of  1,000,000,000,  tlie  fol- 
lowing division,  with  reference  to  their  religion,  has  been  calculated  :  —  Jews,  2,500,000 ; 
Christians,  200,000,000 ;  Mahometans,  140,000,000  ;  Pagans,  or  Idolaters,  657,500,000. 


POPULATION 

OF    SEVERAL   OF 

THE  LARGEST  TOWNS  AND  CITIES  IN   EUROPE, 

NOT   HENTIOKED    IN   THE    TABLE    OF   POPULATION. 

England.  —  Birmingham,  146,986.  Bristol,  103,886.  Halifax,  112,628.  Leeds, 
123,393.  Liverpool,  189,244.  Manchester,  197,046.  Newcastle,  42,760.  Norwich,  61,110. 
Nottingham,  50,680.  Plymouth,  40,651.  Portsmouth  and  Portsea,  50,389.  Sheffield, 
76,378. 

Scotland.  — Aberdeen,  58,019.  Edinburgh,  162,403.  Glasgow,  202,426.  Paisley, 
57,066. 

Ireland.  — Belfast,  37,277.  Cork,  107,007.  Dublin,  203,652.  Galway,  33,120.  Kil- 
kenny, 23,741.    Limerick,  66,575.     Waterford,  28,821. 

France.  —  Bourdeaux,  110,000.  Castres,  100,000.  Lyons,  115,000.  Marseilles, 
110,000.  Nantes,  77,061.  Rouen,  87,000.  Strasburg,  49,056.  Toulon,  27,000.  Tou- 
louse, 50,171.     Versailles,  27,574. 

Austria. -Gratz,  40,000.  Lemberg,  55,500.  Milan,  139,580.  Pest,  61,100.  Prague, 
117,000.     Trieste,  40,530.     Venice,  113,297.     Verona,  48,000. 

Prussia.  —  Alx-la-Chapelle,  36,809.  Breslau,  90,000  .  Cologne,  65,441.  Dantzic, 
61,102.    Konigsberg,  67,941 .     Magdeburg,  51,046. 

•Russia. —Cronstadt,  30,000.  Kasan,  50,000.  Moscow,  246,545.  Odessa, 41,500.  Ri- 
ga, 46,762.    Tula,  38,000.     W^ilna,  25,000. 

Spain.— Barcelona,  60,000.  Cadiz,  70,000.  Grenada,  66,661.  Malaga,  52,375.  Sa- 
ragossa,  55,000.     Seville,  80,568.     Valencia,  80,000. 

Switzerland.  — Basle,  16,215.     Berne,  20,500.    Geneva,  25,000. 

Turkey.  —  Adrianople,  100,000.  Bucharest,  60,000.  Bosna,  48,000.  Erzerum, 
125,000.  Joannina,  35,000.  Balonica,  70,000.  Sophia,  50,000.  Varna,  25,000.  Wi- 
den, 25,000. 


A    GOOD    BOY.  *     109 


COMPARATIVE    VIEW 

or   THE    POPULATION    Or 

THE  SEVERAL  COUNTRIES  IN  EUROPE  AND  AMERICA, 

ACCOKOIIfO  TO   TRSIB   TXMUTOmiAI.  UMITS. 

EoBors.  —  England  has  239  inhabitants  to  a  square  mile.  Wales,  99.  Srotlaiid,  85. 
Ireland,  358.  Denmark,  121.  Sweden,  22.  Norway,  11.  Russia,  35.  Poland.  109. 
Cracow,  307.  Turkey,  84.  Greece,  54.  Sardinia,  206.  Parma,  265.  Ionian  Isles, 
965.  Lucca,  458.  Modena,  142.  Monaco,  171.  San  Marino,  411.  Tuscany,  203. 
8ut«s  of  the  Church,  199.  Two  SicUies,  235.  Portugal,  121,  Spain,  115.  Andora,  104. 
Ausbia,  165.  Prussia,  159.  Holland,  330.  Belgium,  393.  France,  211.  Switzerland, 
181.    Germany,  2(^2. 

BoDTH  Ambrica.  —  Colombia,  2.  Bolivia,  4.  Brazil,  1.  La  Plata.  1  1-3.  Banda 
Oriental,  1  J-5.    Paraguay,  2  1-2.    Peru,  3  3-4.    Chili,  5.    Guayana,  1  3.4. 

NoBTH  Ambkica.  —  Mexico,  4.  Central  America,  10  1-2.  Panama,  (N.  &.  S.  A.,)  4. 
Upper  Canada,  2  13-100.  Lower  Canada,  1  77-100.  New  Brunswick,  2  85-100.  Nova 
Scotia,  4  24-100. 

WErrlsDiEB.  — Cuba,  11  1-2.    Hayti,  33  1-2.    Jamaica,  51  3-4. 

According  to  the  last  census,  the  United  States  bad  12  73-100  inhabitants  to  a 
square  mile.  Were  the  United  States  and  Territories  as  densely  populated  as  Ireland,- 
they  would  contain  more  than  two  hundred  and  sixty  million  people. 


A  GOOD  BOY. 

No  mother,  or  step-mother,  who  has  a  son  fer  away,  can  run  her 
eye  over  the  following  acknowledgment  of  a  mother's  letter,  wliich 
we  clip  from  the  "  Western  World,"  without  pronouncing  its  author 
"  a  good  boy."  In  announcing  the  arrival  of  a  late  mail,  the  editor 
of  that  paper  beautifully  remarks :  — 

"  It  also  brought  us  a  letter  from  her  who  nourished  us  in  infancy ; 
from  her  who  taught  us  our  alphabet ;  a  letter  in  the  same  hand- 
writing of  the  finest  copy  after  which  we  made  our  first  attempt  to 
trace  the  forms  of  letters ;  yes,  a  letter  from  her  whose  pious  lips 
were  the  first  to  tell  us  of  the  '  sinfulness  of  sin,'  and  the  excellence 
of  virtue  ;  from  her  whose  cheek  has  paled  in  nightly  watchings, 
for  months  together,  by  the  couch,  to  which,  with  shackles  of  pain, 
disease  had  bound  us ;  from  her  who  always  acknowledged  our  joy 
with  a  smile,  and  our  woe  with  a  tear ;  from  her  who,  though  of  no 
kindred  blood,  has  ever  loved  us  with  a  mother's  love  ;  and  who ' 
now  writes  to  repeat  her  warmest  prayer  that  we  may  meet  again 
on  earth,  and  tell,  in  terms  whose  truth  we  know,  that  she  who  thus 
has  ever  loved  us  will  love  us  thus  forever.  More  than  two  long 
years  have  been  passed  since  last  we  met,  and  more  than  the  dis- 
tance of  earth's  diameter  divides  us ;  and  which  time  and  dis- 
tance may  be  more  than  twice  double  ere  we  meet  again :  yel^ 
in  reference  to' her,  how  warmly  do  we  feel,  and  how  truly  say, 

'  " '  Where'er  I  go,  whatever  realms  to  see, 

My  heart,  untravelled,  fondly  turns  to  thee ' !  " 


lOi  THE    FAMILY    VISITOR. 


A  FARMER'S  LIFE  AND  A  FARMER'S  DUTIES. 

If  we  were  ever  envious,  it  was  of  the  farmer  —  the  intelligent, 
independent,  and  happy  farmer,  who  owned  his  land,  and  his  house, 
and  his  barns  ;  who  was  iree  from  debt,  whose  family  was  growing 
up  prosperously  around  him,  upon  whom  Gfod  seemed  to  have 
smiled  and  blessed  in  his  basket  and  in  his  store.  We  have  seen 
such  a  farmer,  and  could  point  to  a  hundred  such  ;  and,  in  sober  truth, 
we  know  of  no  man  so  happy,  and  no  business  so  permanently  prof- 
itable —  none,  indeed,  that  makes  the  owner  so  independent,  and 
places  him  so  far  above  board.  To  begin  with  an  independent  farm- 
er:—  He  has  his  house  to  live  in;  it  is  his  own;  he  has  earned  it 
by  the  labor  of  his  hands.  He  has  granaries,  filled  with  the  produc- 
tions of  his  farm  ;  his  barns  with  the  stock  reared  and  hay  raised 
upon  his  farm.  His  cellars  are  filled  with  his  potatoes,  and  half  a 
hundred  kinds  of  the  necessaries  and  luxuries  of  life.  Almost  every 
thing  necessary  to  feed  him  and  his  family,  grows  up  around  him. 
He  may  lead  his  ox  to  the  slaughter,  raise  his  own  pork,  fatten  and 
kill  his  own  sheep,  eat  his  own  poultry,  devour  his  own  eggs,  live 
upon  his  own  home-grown  and  home-made  bread,  weave  his  own 
cloth,  raise  his  own  wool  and  his  own  leather,  knit  his  own  stock- 
ings, through  the  agency  of  his  wife  and  daughters,  (afler  all  the 
two  most  necessary  appendages  to  a  good  farm  and  independent 
farmer,)  make  his  own  butter  and  cheese ;  in  short,  live  like  a 
prince,  and  dress  comfortably,  without  going  from  his  own  home- 
stead. All  this  is  no  fiction ;  and  it  is  the  fact  there  is  no  fiction  in 
this  picture,  that  makes  the  farmer  the  most  independent  man  in 
the  community.  Fairly  in  business,  he  wants  less  money  than 
almost  any  man  to  pursue  the  even  tenor  of  his  way,  because  his 
business  is  of  a  character  to  require  less  money  than  any  other. 

An  independent  farmer,  however,  is  not  altogether  independent 
of  the  community  where  he  is,  or  of  any  business  profession  ;  and 
the  more  intelligent  a  farmer  is,  the  more  readily  will  his  inde- 
pendence be  felt  and  acknowledged.  He  is  only  more  independent 
than  his  neighbor  of  another  profession,  but  by  no  means  altogether 
independent  of  him.  For  example,  he  could  not  consume  all  that  he 
produced,  even  if  he  fed  a  whole  school  district  instead  of  his  own 
family.  He  must  have  labor  in  seed  time  and  harvest,  and  through 
the  summer,  to  give  him  a  helping  hand  in  the  production  and  hai*' 
vesting  of  his  crops.  His  laborers  must  have  money.  He  must 
have  a  hundred  little  knick  knacks  at  home,  all  of  which  cost  money, 
and  which  money  is  to  be  had  only  in  the  productions  of  his  farm. 
Taxes  must  be  paid,  for  the  most  part  in  money.  Iron  does  not 
grow  every  where,  and  his  tools  must  be  bought  and  paid  for. 
Horses  and  oxen  want  shoeing.  There  must  be  ploughs,  and  axes, 
and  nails,  and  a  hundred  other  implements,  which  are  cash  articles, 
and  which  are  to  be  bought  with  the  very  money  received  for  the 
produce  carried  to  market.  Again,  children  are  to  be  educated,  and 
in  the  establishment  of  good  schools  begins  the  first  duty  of  a  good 
farmer. 


J^ 


A    BANK    WORTH    HAVING A    SEASON    IN    LAPLAND.     *    105 

The  farmer  who  is  indifferent  to  education,  neither  knows  his 
own  interest,  nor  cares  a  penny  for  the  interest  of  his  children,  or 
his  neighbor's  children,  or  the  community,  or  posterity,  or  any  body 
but  himself,  now  or  hereafter.  Education,  then,  costs  money ;  and  a 
good  farmer  will  give  abundantly,  if  he  is  able,  to  contribute  to  the 
support  of  all  the  purposes  of  education. 

The  most  independent  farmer,  then,  in  the  land,  may  be  more  in- 
dependent than  his  neighbors  of  another  profession.  To  be  happy, 
and  to  make  his  life  a  useful  one,  he  must  be  intelligent  —  in  pos- 
session of  the  means  of  knowledge  —  especially  that  kind  of  knowl- 
edge which  relates  to  his  own  profession.  He  must  use  the  means 
which  God  has  given  him  —  and  we  have  shown  that  his  gifts  are 
abundant,  —  to  be  happy  himself  and  contribute  to  the  peace  and 
comfort  of  those  around.  In  justice  to  himself,  he  will  employ  his 
evenings  in  the  acquisition  of  knowledge.  He  will  be  a  reader  of 
useful  books,  and  a  liberal  supporter  of  the  public  press.  Such  a 
farmer  as  this  we  have  seen  ;  and  one  who,  in  his  life,  fulfils  all  his 
duty  to  iffc  God  and  his  fellow-man,  is  the  happiest,  the  most  inde- 
pendent, and  among  the  best  of  men.  —  Portland  Evening  Adv. 


A  BANK  WORTH  HAVING. 

It  is  a  cry  oflen  heard,  in  these  hard  times,  that  the  banks  won't 
discount  We  know  a  bank  whose  vaults  are  well  stored  with  the 
richest  treasures,  which  is  open  to  all  who  are  disposed  to  apply,  and 
which,  through  all  the  pressure,  has  been  as  ready  to  discount  as  in 
the  most  prosperous  times.  This  bank  has  a  perpetual  charter,  and 
is  known  as  the  Grand  Bank  of  Terra  Firma,  an  entrance  to 
which  may  be  found  on  the  sunny  side  of  most  of  our  hills.  Its 
keys,  which  you  must  grasp  without  gloves,  are  the  plough,  the 
spade,  and  the  hoe.  The  only  security  that  is  required,  is  industry, 
endorsed  by  temperance ;  and  it  seldom  offers  any  thing  but  sub- 
stantial currency.  Those  who  have  made  themselves  lean  by  com- 
plaining of  hard  times,  and  the  scarcity  of  n)oney,  need  only  try  the 
experiment ;  and  tlie  sooner  they  take  the  responsibility,  the  better. 


A  SEASON  IN  LAPLAND. 

The  quickness  of  vegetation  in  hot  and  cold  climates  is  so  aston- 
ishing as  to  be  perfectly  unaccoimtable,  were  we  not  able  to  refer  it 
to  a  most  exalted  wisdom.  The  following  is  a  calendar  of  a  Sibe- 
rian or  Lapland  year :  — Jime  23,  snow  melts  :  July  1,  snow  gone  ; 
9,  fields  quite  green;     17,  plants  at  fidl  growth;   25,  plants  in 


106  THE    FAMILY    VISITOR. 

flower :  August  2,  fruit  ripe ;  10,  plants  shed  their  seed ;  18, 
snow ;  from  August  18  to  June  23,  snow  and  ice.  Thus  it  appears 
that,  from  their  first  emerging  from  the  ground  to  the  ripening  of 
their  seeds,  the  plants  take  but  a^month ;  and  spring,  summer,  and 
autumn  are  crowded  into  the  short  space  of  fifty-six  days.  —  Studies 
ofJVature. 


THE  LADY-BUG  AND  THE  ANT. 

The  Lady-Bug  sat  in  the  rose's  heai-t, 
^  And  smiled  with  pride  and  scorn. 

As  she  saw  a  plain-dressed  Ant  go  by. 

With  a  heavy  grain  of  corn.  * 

So  she  drew  the  curtains  of  damask  round, 
*^jip  And  adjusted  her  silken  vest, 

Making  her  glass  of  a  drop  of  dew 
That  lay  in  the  rose's  breast 

Then  she  laughed  so  loud  that  the  Ant  looked  up. 

And,  seeing  her  haughty  face, 
Took  no  more  notice,  but  travelled  on 

At  the  same  industrious  pace :  — 
But  a  sudden  blast  of  Autumn  came. 

And  rudely  swept  the  ground. 
And  down  the  rose  with  the  Lady-Bug  bent, 

And  scattered  its  leaves  around. 

Then  the  houseless  Lady  was  much  amazed. 

For  she  knew  not  where  to  go, 
And  hoarse  November's  early  blast 

Had  brought  with  it  rain  and  snow. 
Her  wings  were  chilled,  and  her  feet  were  cold, 

And  she  wished  for  the  Ant's  warm  cell ; 
And  what  she  did  in  the  wintry  storm 

I'm  sure  I  cannot  tell. 

But  the  careful  Ant  was  in  her  nest, 

With  her  little  ones  by  her  side ; 
She  taught  them  all  like  herself  to  toil. 

Nor  mind  the  sneer  of  pride :  — 
And  I  thought,  as  I  sat  at  the  close  of  day. 

Eating  my  bread  and  milk. 
It  was  wiser  to  work  and  improve  my  time, 

Than  be  idle,  and  dress  in  silk. 

Mrs.  Sigoumey. 


DIFFERENCE    IN    TIME. ANCIENT   FARMS,   &C.         '  107 

DIFFERENCE  IN  TIME, 

^  several  Points  in  the  United  States. 

We  take  Philadelphia  time  as  the  standard.  At  12  o'clock,  at 
noon,  at  Philadelphia,  in  north  latitude  39P  SC  59",  and  west 
longitude  75°  KX  59",  it  is  in 

N.  Lot.  W.  Lon. 

°     I     II  oil,  iM.  mjn.  gf^^ 

New  York, 40  42  40 74     1     8 12  4  39 

NewHaven,Ct 4117  58 72  57  46 12  8  53 

Boston, 42  2122 71    4    9 12  16  27 

Eastport,  Me 44  56       66  56       12  33 

Baltimore,  Md 39  17  13 76  37  50 11  54  33 

Charleston,  S.C 32  46  33 79  57  27 11  40  54 

Cincinnati,© 39    5  54 84  27       11  22  56 

Louisville,  Ky 38    3       85  30       11  18  44 

Mobile,  Ala 30  40      88  11       11  7 

St.Louis.Mi 38  36      89  36       11  2  20 

Little  Rock,  Ark 34  40       22  12       10  51  56 


ANCIENT  FARMS. 

The  fkrm  of  the  celebrated  Roman,  Cincinnatus,  consisted  of  only 
four  acres,  the  other  three  having  been  lost  by  his  becoming  security 
for  a  friend.  Curius,  who  was  celebrated  for  his  frugality,  who  was 
three  times  chosen  consul,  and  tlu-ice  honored  with  a  triumph, 
on  returning  from  a  successful  campaign,  refused  from  the  people  a 
grant  of  fifty  acres,  declaring  that  he  was  a  bad  citizen  who  could 
not  be  contented  with  the  old  allowance  of  seven. 


EARLY  RISING 

To  the  farmer  is  conducive  alike  to  health,  to  pleasure,  and  to 
profit;  —  to  health,  because  it  gives  exercise  when  the  atmosphere  is 
most  cool,  pure,  and  bracings  —  to  pleasure,  because  Nature  is  then 
in  her  most  lovely  garb,  and  the  birds  most  fidl  of  song ;  —  to  profit, 
because  the  two  morning  hours  effect  more  in  labor,  and  avert  more 
mischief,  than  four  hours  at  mid-day.  Early  rising,  and  exercise  in 
open  air,  are  the  best  stimuli  for  our  meals,  the  best  auodjTie  for 
sound  sleep,  the  best  solace  for  care,  and  the  best  evidence  of  thrift. 
"  ComA,  boys"  is  the  best  reveille  upon  the  farm.  The  farmer  who 
rises  late  is  generally  behind  his  work  ;  while  he  who  rises  early 
keeps  before  it.  —  JUhany  Cultivcdor. 


108  THE    FAMILY    VISITOR. 


THE  MANSION  OF  REST. 

I  talked  to  my  flattering  heart, 

And  chid  its  wild,  wandering  ways ; 
I  charged  it  from  folly  to  part, 

And  to  husband  the  rest  of  its  days  ; 
I  bade  it  no  longer  admire 

The  meteors  which  fancy  had  dressed ; 
I  whispered  'twas  time  to  retire. 

And  seek  for  a  Mansion  of  Rest. 

A  charmer  was  listening  the  while, 

Who  caught  up  the  tone  of  my  lay. 
"  O  come  then,"  she  cried,  with  a  smile, 

"  And  I'll  show  you  the  place  and  the  way." 
I  followed  the  witch  to  her  home, 

And  vowed  to  be  always  her  guest ; 
"  Never  more,"  I  exclaimed,  "  will  I  roam 

lu  search  of  the  Mansion  of  Rest." 

But  the  sweetest  of  moments  will  fly ; 

Not  long  was  my  fancy  beguiled; 
For  too  soon  I  confessed,  with  a  sigh, 

That  the  siren  deceived  while  she  smiled. 
Deep,  deep  did  she  stab  the  repose 

Of  my  trusting  and  unwary  breast, 
And  the  door  of  each  avenue  close 

That  led  to  the  Mansion  of  Rest. 

Then  Friendship  enticed  me  to  sti*ay 

Through  the  long,  magic  wilds  of  Romsince ; 
But  1  found  that  she  meant  to  betray, 

And  shrunk  from  the  sorcerer's  glance  ; 
For  experience  has  taught  me  to  know 

That  the  soul  that  reclined  on  his  breast 
Might  toss  on  the  billows  of  woe, 

And  ne'er  find  the  Mansion  of  Rest. 

Pleasure's  path  I  determined  to  try ; 

But  Prudence  I  met  in  the  way ; 
Conviction  flashed  light  fi*om  her  eye. 

And  appeared  to  illumine  my  day. 
She  cried,  as  she  showed  me  a  grave. 

With  nettles  and  wild  flowers  dressed, 
O'er  which  the  dark  cypress  did  wave, 

"  Behold  there  the  Mansion  of  Rest." 

She  spoke,  and  half  vanished  in  air, 
For  she  saw  mild  Religion  appear 

With  a  smile  that  would  banish  despair, 
And  dry  up  the  penitent  tear. 


-«%*« 


^ 


COUNSELS. —  WEIGHT  OF  CATTLE.  109 

Doubts  and  fears  from  my  bosom  were  driven, 

And,  pressing  the  cross  to  her  breast, 
And  pointing  serenely  to  heaven, 

She  showed  the  true  Mansion  of  Rest. 

Charles  J.  Fox. 


COUNSELS. 

Though  bright  thy  morn  of  life  may  seem, 

Remember  clouds  may  rise ; 
And  trust  not  to  the  transient  gleam 

Of  calm  and  smiling  skies. 
So  tread  life's  path,  in  sunshine  dressed. 

With  lowly,  cautious  fear, 
That,  when  grief's  shadows  o'er  it  rest, 

Its  memory  may  be  dear.  ^  V 

If  dark  life's  matin  hours  may  be,  ^^ 

Despond  not  at  their  gloom  ; 
Joy's  cloudless  sun  may  rise  for  thee, 

And  hope's  bright  flowerets  bloom. 
So  trace  thy  pathway,  thorn-l)estrewed, 

That  thou,  in  happier  hours, 
With  pure  and  pangless  gratitude, 

Mayst  bless  its  fragrant  flowers. 

Through  cloud  and  sunshine,  flower  and  thorn. 

Pursue  thy  even  way. 
Nor  let  thy  better  hopes  be  born 

Of  things  that  must  decay.  .  > 

Rejoice  with  trembling,  mourn  with  hope ; 

Take  life  as  life  was  given : 
Its  rough  ascent,  its  flowery  slope, 

May  lead  alike  to  heaven. 

Bernard  Barton. 


WEIGHT  OF  CATTLE. 

In  a  country  like  ours,  where  great  numbers  of  cattle  are  annually 
bought  and  sold,  under  circumstances  that  forbid  the  ascertaining 
their  weight  with  positive  accuracy,  it  must  be  desirable  that  some 
general  rules,  approximating  to  exactness,  should  be  known,  in 
order  to  prevent  all  ground  of  mistake  or  collusion  on  the  part  of 
the  interested  Individuals.  In  Ihigland,  two  or  three  tables  have 
been  constructed  by  different  individuals,  founded  on  the  lengtli 
and  girth  of  the  animal  at  certain  points,  nn<l  based  on  a  vast  num- 
ber of  experiments,  most  carefully  made.  To  illustrate  this  matter, 
we  have  copied  from  an  English  work  the  following  tables :  — 


110  THE    FAMILY    VISITOR, 


Girth. 
ft.    in. 


5  0 

((  (( 

5  6 

<(  (( 

6  0 

(C  (( 

6  6 

t(  n 

7  0 

Cl  (( 

8  0 


Length. 
ft.  in. 
3    6., 

RerUon's 
stone. 

21 

24 

27 

34 

38 

43 

45 

48 

64 

....     70 

99 

107 

Talk. 

1!). 

0     ... 

Gary's 
stono. 
...     21 

Gauge. 
lb. 
00 

4    0., 

0     ... 

...     24 

00 

3    9.. 

1    ... 

...     27 

00 

4    0.. 

4     ... 

...     34 

07 

4    6.. 

8     ... 

...     38 

n 

5    0.. 

1     ... 

...     43 

00 

4    6.. 

9     ... 

. ..     45 

07 

4    9.. 

0     ... 

.-..     48 

00 

5    6.. 

6     ... 

...     64 

07 

6    0.. 

5     ... 

...     70 

03 

6    6.. 

8     ... 

...     99 

12 

7    0.. 

5     ... 

...  107 

06    / 

In  taking  the  girth  and  length  of  an  animal,  the  manner  IS  as 
follows :  — 

"  The  girth  is  taken  by  passing  a  line  just  behind  the  shoulder- 
blade,  and  under  the  fore-legs ;  this  gives  the  circumference  of  the 
animal.  The  length  is  taken  along  the  back  from  the  foremost 
corner  of  the  blade-bone  of  the  shoulder  in  a  straight  line  to  the 
hindmost  point  of  the  rump,  or  to  that  bone  of  the  tail  that  plumbs 
the  line  with  the  hinder  part  of  the  buttock." 

These  lines  are  then  measured  by  the  foot  rule,  and  the  weight 
can  readily  be  calculated  from  the  tables.  Some  slight  difference 
in  weight  may  be  traced  in  the  tables,  but  the  agreement  is  suf- 
ficiently close  to  show  that  no  material  error  can  exist.  The  tables, 
according  to  the  English  mode  of  reckoning,  are  calculated  upon 
the  stone  of  14  lbs.  avoirdupois.  Thus,  if  the  girth  is  G  feet  and  the 
length  5  feet,  the  weiglit  will  be  43  stone  1  lb.  or  603  lbs.  Mr.  Ren- 
ton,  in  his  "  Grazier's  Ready  Reckoner,"  states  that  for  a  half-fattened 
ox,  one  stone  in  every  twenty  must  be  deducted  ;  and  when  they 
are  veiy  fat,  one  twentieth  may  be  added.  No  tables  can,  however, 
be  at  all  times  implicitly  relied  upon,  as  there  are  many  circum- 
stances connected  with  the  buUd  of  the  animal,  the  mode  of  fatten- 
ing, &c.,  that  will  influence  the  measurement,  and  consequentlj'  the 
weight.  As  a  general  guide,  such  tables  must  be  useful  to  the 
farmer  or  grazier,  for  whose  use  they  are  of  course  principally  in- 
tended. —  Genesee  Farmer. 


THE  BIl^DS  OF  SPRING. 

My  quiet  residence  in  the  country,  aloof  from  fashion,  politics, 
and  the  money-market,  leaves  me  rather  at  a  loss  for  important  occu- 

Eation,  and  drives  me  to  the  study  of  nature,  and  other  low  pursuits, 
[aving  few  neighbors,  also,  on  whom  to  keep  a  watch,  and  ex- 
ercise my  habits  of  observation,  I  am  fain  to  amuse  myself  with 
prying  into  the  domestic  concerns  and  peculiarities  of  the  animals 
around  me  ;  and,  during  the  present  season,  have  derived  consider- 


THE    BIRDS    OF    SPRING.  '  111 

able  entertainment  from  certain  sociable  little  birds,  almost  tlie  only 
visitors  we  have,  during  this  eai'ly  part  of  the  year. 

Those  who  have  passed  the  winter  in  the  country  are  sensible 
of  the  delightful  influences  that  acconipany  the  earliest  indications 
of  spring ;  and  of  these,  none  are  more  delightful  than  the  first 
notes  of  the  birds.  There  is  one  modest  little  sad-colored  bird, 
much  resembling  a  WTen,  which  came  about  the  house  just  on  the 
skirts  of  winter,  when  not  a  blade  of  grass  was  to  be  seen,  and  when 
a  few  prematurely  warm  days  had  given  a  flattering  foretaste  of  soft 
weather.  He  sang  early  in  the  dawning,  long  before  sunrise,  and 
late  in  tlie  evening,  just  before  the  closing  in  of  night,  his  matin  and 
his  vesper  hymns.  It  is  true,  he  sang  occasionally  throughout  the 
day ;  but  at  these  still  hours,  his  song  was  more  remai'ked.  He  sat 
on  a  leafless  tree,  just  before  the  window,  and  warbled  forth  his 
notes,  free  and  simple,  but  singularly  sweet,  with  something  of  a 
plaintive  tone,  that  heightened  their  effect. 

The  first  morning  that  he  was  heard  was  a  joyous  one  among  the 
young  folks  of  my  household.  The  long,  death-like  sleep  of  winter 
was  at  an  end  ;  nature  was  once  more  awakening  ;  they  now  prom- 
ised themselves  the  immediate  appearance  of  buds  and  blossoms. 
I  was  reminded  of  the  tempest-tossed  crew  of  Columbus,  when, 
after  their  long,  dubious  voyage,  the  field-birds  came  singing  round 
the  ship,  though  still  far  at  sea,  rejoicing  them  with  the  belief  of  the 
immediate  proximity  of  land.  A  sharp  return  of  winter  almost 
silenced  my  little  songster,  and  dashed  the  hilarity  of  the  house- 
hold ;  yet  still  he  poured  forth,  now  and  then,  a  few  plaintive  notes, 
between  the  frosty  pipings  of  the  breeze,  like  gleams  of  sunshine 
between  wintry  clouds. 

I  have  consulted  my  book  of  ornithology,  in  vain,  to  find  out  the 
name  of  this  kindly  little  bird,  who  certainly  deserves  honor  and 
favor  far  beyond  his  modest  pretensions.  He  comes  like  the  lowly 
violet,  the  most  unpretending,  but  welcomest  of  flowers,  breathing 
the  sweet  promise  of  the  early  year. 

Another  of  our  feathered  visitors,  who  follow  close  upon  the  steps 
of  >vinter,  is  the  Pe-wit,  or  Pe-wee,  or  Phoebe-bird ;  for  he  is  called 
by  each  of  these  names,  from  a  fancied  resemblance  to  the  sound 
of  his  monotonous  note.  He  is  a  sociable  little  being,  and  seeks 
the  habitation  of  man.  A  pair  of  them  have  built  beneath  my  porch, 
and  have  reared  several  broods  there,  for  two  years  past,  their  nest 
lieuig  never  disturbed.  They  arrive  early  in  the  spring,  just  when 
the  crocus  and  the  snow-drop  begin  to  peep  forth.  Their  first  chirp 
spreads  gladness  through  the  house.  "The  Phcebe-birds  have 
come  ! "  is  heard  on  all  sides :  they  are  welcomed  back  like  mem- 
bers of  the  family ;  and  speculations  are  made  upon  where  they 
have  been,  and  what  countries  they  have  seen,  during  tlieir  long 
absence.  Their  arrival  is  the  more  cheering,  as  it  is  pronounced, 
by  the  old  weather-wise  people  of  the  country,  the  sure  sign  that 
the  severe  frosts  are  at  an  end,  and  that  the  gardener  may  resume 
his  labors  with  confidence. 

About  this  time,  too,  arrives  the  blue-bird,  so  jraeticaily  yet  truly 
described  by  Wilson.  His  appearance  gladdens  the  whole  land- 
scape.    You  hear  his  soft  warble   in   every  field.    He  sociably 


112  THE    FAMILY    VISITOR. 

approaches  your  habitation,  and  takes  up  his  residence  in  your 
vicinity.  But  why  should  I  attempt  to  describe  him,  when  I  have 
'Wilson's  own  graphic  verses  to  place  him  before  the  reader  ? 

When  winter's  cold  tempests  and  snows  are  no  more, 

Green  meadows  and  brown  furrowed  fields  reappearing, 
The  fishennen  hauling  their  shad  to  the  shore, 

And  cloud-cleaving  geese  to  the  lakes  are  a-steering ; 
When  first  the  lone  butterfly  flits  on  the  wing. 

When  red  glow  the  maples,  so  fresh  aiid  so  pleasing, 
O,  then  comes  the  blue-bird,  the  herald  of  spring, 

And  hails  with  his  warblings  the  charms  of  the  season. 

*^'       The  loud-piping  frogs  make  the  marshes  to  ring ; 

Then  warm  glows  the  sunshine,  and  warm  glows  the  weather; 
The  blue  woodland  flowers  just  beginning  to  spring. 

And  spice-wood  and  sassafras  budding  together ; 
O,  then,  to  your  gardens,  ye  housewives,  repair  ; 

Your  walks  border  up,  sow  and  plant  at  your  leisure; 
The  blue-bird  will  chant  from  his  box  such  an  air, 

That  all  your  hard  toils  will  seem  truly  a  pleasure  ! 

He  flits  through  the  orchard,  he  visits  each  tree, 

The  red  flowering  peach,  and  the  apple's  sweet  blossoms ; 
He  snaps  up  destroyers,  wherever  they  be, 

And  seizes  the  caitifls  that  lurk  in  their  bosoms ; 
He  drags  the  vile  grub  from  the  corn  it  devours. 

The  worms  from  the  webs  where  they  riot  and  welter ; 
His  song  and  his  services  freely  are  ours. 

And  all  that  he  asks  is,  in  summer  a  shelter. 

The  ploughman  is  pleased  when  he  gleans  in  his  train. 
•  Now  searching  the  furrows,  now  mounting  to  cheer  nim ; 
The  gardener  delights  in  his  sweet,  simple  strain. 

And  leans  on  his  spade  to  survey  and  to  hear  him; 
The  slow-lingering  school-boys  forget  they'll  be  chid, 

While  gazmg  intent,  as  he  warbles  before  them. 
In  mantle  of  sky  blue,  and  bosom  so  red, 

That  each  little  loiterer  seems  to  adore  hun. 

The  happiest  bird  of  our  spring,  however,  and  one  that  rivals  the 
European  lai-k,  in  my  estimation,  is  the  Boblincon,  or  Boblink,  as 
he  is  commonly  called.  He  arrives  at  that  choice  portion  of  our 
year,  which,  in  this  latitude,  answers  to  the  description  of  the  month 
of  May,  so  often  given  by  the  poets.  With  us,  it  begins  about  the 
middle  of  May,  and  lasts  until  nearly  the  middle  of  June.  Earlier 
than  this,  winter  is  apt  to  return  on  its  traces,  and  to  blight  the 
opening  beauties  of  the  year  ;  and  later  than  this,  begin  the  parch- 
ing, and  panting,  and  dissolving  heats  of  summer.  But  in  this 
genial  interval,  nature  is  in  all  her  freshness  and  fragrance  :  "  the 
rains  are  over  and  gone,  the  flowers  appear  upon  the  earth,  the 
time  of  the  singing  of  birds  is  come,  and  the  voice  of  the  turtle  is 
heard  in  the  land."  The  trees  are  now  in  their  fullest  foliage  and 
brightest  verdure ;  the  woods  are  gay  with  the  clustered  flowers  of 
the  laurel ;  the  air  is  perfumed  by  the  sweet-brier  and  the  wild 
rose  ;  the  meadows  are  enamelled  with  clover-blossoms ;  while  the 
young  apple,  the  peach,  and  the  plum,  begin  to  swell,  and  the 
cherry  to  glow,  among  the  green  leaves.  » 


THE    BIRDS    OF    SPRING.  113 

This  ia  the  chosen  season  of  revelry  of  the  Boblink.  He  coiipes 
amidst  the  pomp  and  fragrance  of  the  season ;  his  life  seems  all 
sensibility  and  enjoyment,  all  song  and  sunshine.  He  is  to  be 
found  in  the  soil  bosoms  of  the  freshest  and  sweetest  meadows ;» 
and  is  most  in  song  when  the  clover  is  in  blossom.  He  perches 
on  the  topmost  twig  of  a  tree,  or  on  some  flaunting  weed,  and,  as 
he  rises  and  sinks  with  the  breeze,  pours  forth  a  succession  of  rich, 
tinkling  notes,  crowding  one  upon  another,  like  the  outpouring 
melody  of  the  sky-lark,  and  possessing  the  same  rapturous  charac- 
ter. Sometimes  he  pitches  from  the  summit  of  a  tree,  begins  his 
song  as  soon  as  he  gets  upon  the  wing,  and  flutters  tremulously 
down  to  the  earth,  as  if  overcome  with  ecstasy  at  his  own  music. 
Sometimes  he  is  in  pursuit  of  his  paramour  ;  always  in  full  song,  as 
if  he  would  win  her  by  his  melody;  and  always  with  the  same 
appearance  of  intoxication  and  delight. 

Of  all  the  birds  of  our  groves  and  meadows,  the  Boblink  was  the 
envy  of  my  boyhood.  He  crossed  my  path  in  the  sweetest  weather, 
and  the  sweetest  season  in  the  year,  when  all  nature  called  to  the 
fields,  and  the  rural  feeluig  throbbed  in  every  bosom  ;  but  when  I, 
luckless  urchin !  was  doomed  to  l)e  mewed  up,  during  the  livelong 
day,  in  that  purgatory  of  boyhood,  a  school-room.  It  seemed  as  if 
the  httle  varlet  mocked  at  me,  as  he  flew  by  in  full  song,  and  sought 
to  taunt  me  with  his  happier  lot  O,  how  I  envied  him !  No  les- 
sons, no  tasks,  no  hateful  school ;  nothing  but  holiday,  frolic,  green 
fields,  and  fine  weather.  Had  I  been  then  more  versed  in  poetry,  1 
might  have  addressed  him  in  the  words  of  Logan  to  the  cuckoo  — 

Sweet  bird  !  thy  bower  is  ever  green ; 

Thy  sky  is  ever  clear ; 
Thou  hast  no  sorrow  in  thy  note, 

No  winter  in  tliy  year. 

O  !  could  I  fly,  I'd  fly  with  thee  ; 

We'd  make,  on  joyful  wing, 
Our  annual  visit  round  the  globe. 

Companions  of  the  spring  ! 

Fiunher  observation  and  experience  have  given  me  a  different 
idea  of  this  little  feathered  voluptuary,  which  I  will  ventiu-e  to  im- 
part, for  the  benefit  of  my  school-boy  readers,  who  may  regard  him 
with  the  same  unqualified  envy  and  admiration  which  I  once 
indulged.  I  have  shown  him,  only  as  I  saw  him  at  first,  in  what  I 
may  call  the  poetical  part  of  his  cai-eer,  when  he  in  a  manner  de- 
voted himself  to  elegant  pursuits  and  enjoyments,  and  was  a  bird 
of  music,  and  song,  and  taste,  and  sensibility,  and-  refinement. 
While  this  lasted,  he  was  sacred  from  injury:  the  very  school-boy 
would  not  fling  a  stone  at  him,  and  the  merest  rustic  would  pause 
to  listen  to  his  strain.  But  mark  the  difference.  As  the  year  ad- 
vances, as  the  clover-blossoms  di:«appear,  and  the  spring  fades  into 
summer,  liis  notes  cease  to  vibrate  on  the  ear.  He  gradually  gives 
up  his  elegant  tastes  and  habits,  doffs  his  poetical  and  professional 
suit  of  black,  assumes  a  russet,  or  rather  dusty  garb,  and  enters  into 
10* 


114  THE    FAMILY    VISITOR. 

the  gross  enjoyments  of  common,  vulgar  birds.  He  becomes  a  bon 
vivant,  a  mere  gourmand  ;  thinlcing  ol  nothing  but  good  cheer,  and 
gormandizing  on  the  seeds  of  tlie  long  grasses  on  which  he  lately 
swung,  and  chanted  so  musically.  He  begins  to  think  there  is 
nothing  like  "  the  joys  of  the  table,"  if  I  may  be  allowed  to  apply 
that  convivial  phrase  to  his  indulgences.  He  now  grows  discon- 
tented with  plain,  every-day  fare,  and  sets  out  on  a  gastronomical 
tour,  in  seai'ch  of  foreign  luxuries.  He  is  to  be  found  in  myriads 
among  the  reeds  of  the  Delaware,  banqueting  on  their  seeds  ;  grows 
corpulent  with  good  feeding,  and  soon  acquires  the  unlucky  renown 
of  the  ortolan.  Wherever  he  goes,  pop  !  pop  !  pop !  the  rusty  fire- 
locks of  the  country  ai'e  cracking  on  every  side  ;  he  sees  his  com- 
panions falling  by  thousands  around  him ;  he  is  the  reed-bird,  the 
much-sought-for  titbit  of  the  Pennsylvanian  epicure. 

Does  he  take  wai'ning  and  reform  ?  Not  he  !  He  wings  his  flight 
still  farther  south,  in  search  of  other  luxuries.  We  hear  of  him 
gorging  himself  in  the  rice  swamps ;  tilling  himself  with  rice  almost 
to  bursting ;  he  can  hardly  fly  for  corpulency.  —  Last  stage  of  his 
career,  vy^e  hear  of  him  spitted  by  dozens,  and  served  up  on  the 
table  of  the  gourmand,  the  most  vaunted  of  southern  dainties,  the 
rice-bird  of  the  Carolinas. 

Such  is  the  story  of  the  once  musical  and  admired,  but  finally 
sensual  and  persecuted  Boblink.  It  contains  a  moral  worthy  the 
attention  of  all  little  bu'ds  and  little  boys ;  warning  them  to  keep  to 
those  refined  and  intellectual  pursuits,  which  raised  him  to  so  high 
a  pitch  of  popularity  during  the  early  part  of  his  career ;  but  to 
eschew  all  tendency  to  that  gross  and  dissipated  indulgence,  which 
brought  this  mistaken  little  bird  to  an  untimely  end. 

Which  is  all  at  present,  from  the  well-wisher  of  little  boys  and 
little  birds.  —  Washington  Irving. 


ON  THE  DEATH  OF  A  SISTER. 

1  knew  that  we  must  part ;  day  after  day 
I  saw  the  dread  Destroyer  win  his  way. 
That  hollow  cough  first  rang  the  fatal  knell, 
As  on  my  ear  its  prophet  warning  fell ; 
Feeble  and  slow  thy  once  light  footstep  grew ; 
Thy  wasting  cheek  put  on  death's  pallid  hue ; 
Thy  thin,  hot  hand,  to  mine  more  weakly  clung; 
Each  sweet  "  Good  night "  fell  fainter  from  thy  tongue. 
I  knew  that  we  must  part  —  no  power  could  save 
Thy  quiet  goodness  from  an  early  grave. 

Those  eyes  so  dull,  though  kind  each  glance  they  cast. 
Looking  a  sister's  ibndness  to  the  last ; 
Thy  lips  so  pale,  that  gently  pressed  my  cheek ; 
Thy  voice  —  alas !  thou  couldst  but  try  to  speak ;  — 


ON   THE    DEATH    OF    A    SISTER.  115 

All  told  thy  doom.    I  felt  it  at  my  heart. 

The  shaft  had  struck  —  I  knew  that  we  must  part 

And  we  have  parted,  Mary ;  thou  art  gone  ! 
Gone  in  thy  innocence,  meek,  suffering  one  ! 
Thy  weary  spirit  breatlied  itself  to  sleep 
So  peacefully,  it  seemed  a  sin  to  weep 
In  those  fond  watchers  who  around  thee  stood, 
And  felt  even  then  that  Gfod,  even  then,  was  good. 
Like  stars  that  struggle  through  the  cloud  of  night, 
Thine  eyes  one  moment  caught  a  glorious  light, 
As  if  to  thee  in  that  dread  hour  'twere  given  • 

To  know  on  earth  what  faith  believes  of  heaven  ; 
Then  like  tired  breezes  didst  thou  sink  to  rest, 
Nor  one,  one  pang  the  awful  change  confessed. 
Death  stole  in  softness  o'er  that  lovely  face. 
And  touched  each  feature  with  a  new-bom  grace ; 
On  cheek  and  brow  unearthly  beauty  lay,  * 

And  told  that  life's  poor  cares  had  passed  away. 
In  my  last  hour  be  heaven  so  kind  to  me  — 
I  ask  no  more  than  this  —  to  die  like  thee. 

But  we  have  parted,  Mary ;  thou  art  dead !  ' 

On  its  last  restir^-place  I  laid  thy  head, 
Then  by  thy  coffin-side  knelt  down  and  took 
A  brother's  farewell  kiss  and  farewell  look. 
Those  marble  lips  no  kindred  kiss  returned ; 
From  those  veiled  orbs  no  glance  responsive  burned. 
Ah !  then  I  felt  that  thou  hadst  passed  away, 
That  the  sweet  face  I  gazed  on  was  but  clay. 
And  then  came  Memory  with  her  busy  throng 
Of  tender  images  forgotten  long. 
Years  hurried  back,  and,  as  they  swiftly  i-olled, 
I  saw  thee,  heard  thee,  as  in  days  of  old  ; 
Sad  and  more  sad  each  sacred  feeling  grew, 
Manhood  was  moved,  and  sorrow  claimed  her  due ; 
Thick,  thick  and  fast  the  burning  tear-drops  started; 
I  turned  away,  and  felt  that  we  had  parted. 

But  not  forever.    In  the  silent  tomb, 
Where  thou  art  laid,  thy  kindred  sh^ll  find  room ;  < 

A  little  while,  a  few  short  years  of  pain. 
And,  one  by  one,  we'll  come  to  thee  again. 
The  kind  old  father  shall  seek  out  the  place. 
And  rest  with  thee,  the  youngest  of  his  race ; 
The  dear,  dear  mother,  bent  with  age  and  grie^ 
Shall  lay  her  head  by  thine  in  sweet  relief; 
Sister  and  brother,  and  that  faithful  friend. 
True  from  the  first,  and  tender  to  the  end  — 
All,  all  in  His  good  time  who  placed  us  here, 
To  live,  to  love,  to  die  and  disappear, 


i 


116      *  *  THE     FAMILY     VISITOR, 

Shall  come  and  make  their  quiet  bed  with  thee, 
Beneath  the  shadow  of  that  spi-eading  tree  ; 
With  thee  to  sleep  through  death's  long,  dreamless  night, 
With  thee  to  rise,  and  bless  the  morning  light. 

Charles  Sprague. 

ON  THE  RECEIPT  OF  MY  MOTHER'S  PICTURE^  r 

O  that  those  lips  liad  language!     Life  has  passed 
With  me  but  roughly  since  1  heard  thee  last. 
Those  lips  are  thine  —  tliy  own  sweet  smile  I  see, 
The  same  tliat  oft  in  childhood  solaced  me. 
Voice  only  fails,  else  how  distinct  they  say, 
.    "  Grieve  not,  my  child ;  chase  all  tliy  fears  away ! " 
The  meek  intelligence  of  those  dear  eyes 
(Blessed  be  the  art  that-can  immortalize, 
riie  art  that  baffles  Time's  tyrannic  claim 
To  quench  it)  here  shines  on  me  still  the  same. 

Faithful  remembrancer  of  one  so  deai", 

0  welcome  guest,  though  unexpected  here ! 
Who  bidd'st  me  honor  with  an  artless  song. 
Affectionate,  a  mother  lost  so  long ; 

1  will  obey,  not  willingly  alone, 
But  gladly,  as  the  precept  were  her  own ; 
And,  while  that  face  renews  my  filial  gi'ief) 
Fancy  shall  weave  a  charm  for  my  relief,  — 
Shall  steep  me  in  Elysian  reverie, 
A  momentary  dream,  that  thou  ait  she. 

My  mother !  when  I  learned  that  thou  wast  dead, 
Say,  wast  thou  conscious  of  the  tears  I  shed? 
Hovered  thy  s])irit  o'er  thy  sorrowing  son. 
Wretch  even  then,  life's  journey  just  begun  ? 
Perhaps  thou  gav'st  me,  though  unfelt,  a  kiss, 
Perhaps  a  tear,  if  souls  can  weep  in  bliss. 
Ah,  that  maternal  smile  !  it  answers,  Yes.  ,^ 

I  heard  the  bell  tolled  on  thy  burial  day,  ♦ 

I  saw  the  hearse  that  bore  thee  slow  away. 
And,  turning  from  my  nursery  window,  drew 
A  long,  long  sigh,  and  wept  a  last  adieu! 
But  was  it  such  ?  —  It  was  —  where  thou  ait  gone 
Adieus  and  farewells  are  a  sound  unknown. 
May  I  but  meet  thee  on  that  peaceful  shore. 
The  parting  word  sliall  pass  my  lips  no  more! 
Thy  maidens,  grieved  themselves  at  my  concern,  ij 

Oft  gave  me  promise  of  thy  quick  return. 
What  ardently  I  wished,  1  long  believed,- 
And,  disappointed  still,  was  still  deceived  ;  J 


ON   THE    RECEIPT    OF    MY   MOTHER'S    PICTURE.  "  *117 

By  expectation  every  day  beguiled, 

Dupe  of  to-morrow  even  from  a  ciiild. 

Thus  nituiy  a  sa<l  to-morrow  came  piid  went, 

Till,  alJ  my  stock  of  infant  sorrows  sj>ent, 

I  learned  at  last  suhmission  to  my  lot, 

But,  tliougli  1  less  deplored  tliee,  ne'er  forgot 

Wliere  once  we  dwelt  our  name  is  heard  no  more ; 
Ciiildi'en  not  thine  have  trod  my  nursery  floor; 
And  where  the  gai'dener,  Uobiii,  day  by  day, 
Drew  me  to  school  along  tlie  public  way. 
Delighted  with  my  bawble  coach,  and  wrapped 
In  scju'let  mantle  warm,  and  velvet  cap,  * 

'Tis  now  l)ecomc  a  history  little  known. 
That  once  we  called  the  pastoral  house  our  own. 
Short-liveil  possession !  but  the  record  fair,  j 

That  memory  keeps  of  all  tliy  kindness  there, 
Still  outlives  many  a  storm,  that  has  eflaced 
A  thous:uid  other  themes  less  deejjly  traced. 
Thy  nightly  visits  to  my  chamber  made, 
That  thou  mightst  know  me  safe  and  warmly  laid; 
Thy  nioniiiig  bounties  ere  1  lell  my  home ; 

The  biscuit,  or  conlectioiuu-y  plum ;  ^,        ^ 

The  fragrant  waters  on  my  cheeks  bestowed,  W         ^ 

By  thy  own  hand,  till  fresh  they  shone  and  glowed;  — 
All  this,  and,  more  endearing  still  than  all. 
Thy  constant  flow  of  love  that  knew  no  fall. 
Ne'er  roughened  by  those  cataracts  and  breaks 
That  humor  interposed  too  often  makes  ;  — 
All  this,  still  legible  in  memory's  page. 
And  still  to  l)e  so  to  my  latest  age, 
Adds  joy  to  duty,  makes  me  glad  to  pay 
Such  honors  to  thee  as  my  numbers  may ; 
Perhaps  a  frail  memorial,  but  sincere. 
Not  scorned  in  heaven,  though  little  noticed  here. 

CouUI  Time,  his  flight  reversed,  restore  the  hours. 
When,  |)laying  with  thy  vesture's  tissued  flowers. 
The  violet,  the  pink,  and  jessamine, 
1  pricked  them  into  paper  with  a  pin, 
(And  thou  wast  hai»pier  than  myself  the  while ; 
Wouhlst  softly  speak,  and  stroke  my  head,  and  smile,) — 
Could  those  few  pleasant  <lays  again  ai)pear. 
Might  one  wish  bring  them,  would  I  wish  them  here?  , 

1  would  not  trust  my  heart  —  the  dear  delight  W** 

Seems  so  to  be  desired,  perhaps  I  might ;  cj^^^ 

But  no  —  what  here  we  call  oiu-  life  is  such, 
So  little  to  be  loved,  and  thou  so  much. 
That  1  should  ill  requite  thee  to  constrain 
Thy  unbound  spirit  into  bonds  again. 


118  THE    FAMILY    VISITOR. 

Thou,  as  a  gallant  bai-k,  from  Albion's  coast, 
fThe  storms  all  weathered  and  the  ocean  crossed,) 
Shoots  uito  port  at  some  well-havened  isle. 
Where  spices  breathe,  and  brighter  seasons  smile, 
There  sits  quiescent  on  the  floods  that  show 
Her  beauteous  foi-m  reflected  clear  below. 
While  airs  impregnated  with  incense  play 
Around  her,  fanning  light  her  streamers  gay ; 
So  thou,  with  sails  how  swifl; !  hast  reached  the  shore 
"  Where  tempests  never  beat  nor  billows  roar." 
And  thy  loved  consort  on  the  dangerous  tide 
Of  life  long  since  has  anchored  by  thy  side. 
But  me,  scai'ce  hoping  to  attain  that  rest. 
Always  from  port  withheld,  always  distressed, 
Me  howling  blasts  drive  devious,  tempest-tossed, 
Sails  ripped,  seams  opening  wide,  and  compass  lost, 
And  day  by  day  some  current's  thwarting  force 
Sets  me  more  distant  from  a  prosperous  course. 
Yet,  O,  the  thought  that  thou  art  safe,  and  he  — 
That  thought  is  joy,  arrive  what  may  to  me. 
My  boast  is  not,  that  I  deduce  my  birth 
From  loins  enthroned,  and  rulers  of  the  earth  ; 
•        But  higher  far  my  proud  pretensions  rise  — 
The  son  of  parents  passed  into  the  skies. 
And  now  farewell.     Time  unrevoked  has  run 
His  wonted  course,  yet  what  I  wished  is  done ; 
By  contemplation's  help,  not  sought  in  vain, 
I  seem  to  have  lived  my  childhood  o'er  again  ; 
To  have  renewed  the  joys  that  once  were  mine, 
Without  the  sin  of  violating  thine  ; 
And  while  the  wings  of  Fancy  still  are  free, 
And  1  can  view  this  mimic  show  of  thee, 
Time  has  but  half  succeeded  in  his  thefl:  — 
Thyself  removed,  thy  power  to  soothe  me  left. 

Covoper. 


FASCINATION  OF  THE  SNAKE. 

The  following  story  is  authenticated  by  Samuel  Beach,  a 
naturalist,  of  two  boys  in  New  Jersey,  who,  being  in  the  woods 
looking  for  cattle,  lighted  by  chance  upon  a  large  black  snake; 
upon  which  one  of  them,  an  inquisitive  imp,  immediately  resolved 
to  ascertain,  by  experiment,  whether  the  snake,  so  celebrated  for  its 
powers,  could  charm  or  fascinate  him.-  He  requested  his  companion 
to  take  up  a  stick,  and  keep  a  good  eye  on  the  snake,  to  prevent  evil 
consequences,  while  he  made  trial  of  its  powers.  This,  says  Mr. 
Beach,  the  other  agreed  to  do ;  when  the  fii'st  advanced  a  few  steps 
nearer  the  snake,  and  made  a  stand,  looking  steadily  on  hin^ 


THE    FUTURE    LIFE.  119 

When  the  snake  observed  him  ui  that  situation,  he  raised  his  head 
with  a  quick  motion,  and  the  lad  says  that  at  that  instant  there 
appeared  something  to  flash  in  his  eyes,  which  he  could  compare 
to  nothing  more  similar  than  the  rays  of  light  thrown  from  a  glass 
or  mirror,  when  turned  in  the  sunshine ;  he  said  it  dazzled  his  eyes ; 
at  the  same  time  the  colors  appeared  very  beautiful,  and  were  in 
large  rings,  circles,  or  rolls,  and  it  seemed  to  be  dark  to  him  every 
where  else,  and  his  head  began  to  be  dizzy,  much  like  being  over 
swift-running  water.  He  then  says,  he  thought  he  would  go  from 
the  snake ;  and  as  it  was  dark  every  where  but  in  the  circles,  he 
was  fearful  of  treading  any  where  else  ;  and  as  they  still  grew  less 
in  circumference,  he  could  not  see  where  to  step ;  but  as  the  dizzi- 
ness in  his  head  still  increased,  he  tried  to  call  his  comrade  for 
help,  but  could  not  speak ;  it  then  appeared  to  him  as  though  he 
was  in  a  vortex  or  whirlpool,  and  that  every  turn  brought  him  nearer 
the  centre.  His  conu-ade,  who  had  impatiently  waited,  observing 
him  move  forward  to  the  right  and  left,  and  at  every  turn  approach 
nearer  the  snake,  making  a  strange,  groaning  noise,  not  unlike  a 
person  in  a  fit  of  the  nightmare,  could  stand  still  no  longer,  but  im- 
mediately ran  and  killed  4he  snake,  which  was  of  the  largest  size. 
He  that  had  been  charmed  was  much  terrified,  and  in  a  tremor ;  his 
shirt  was  in  a  few  moments  wet  with  sweat;  he  complained  much 
of  a  dizziness  in  his  head,  attended  with  pain,  and  appeared  in  a* 
melancholy,  stupid  situation  for  some  days.  —  Dr.  Bird. 


'     THE  FUTURE  LIFK 

BT''wILLIAM    CUIXEN    BRYANT. 

How  shall  I  know  thee  in  the  sphere  which  keeps 

The  diseml)odied  spirits  of  the  dead. 
When  all  of  thee  that  time  could  wither,  sleeps, 

And  perishes  among  the  dust  we  tread  ? 

For  I  shall  feel  the  sting  of  ceaseless  pain 
If  there  I  meet  thy  gentle  presence  not, 

^or  hear  the  voice  I  love,  nor  read  again 
In  tliy  serenest  eyes  the  tender  thought. 

Will  not  thy  own  meek  heart  demand  me  there  ?  — 
That  heart  whose  fondest  throbs  to  me  were  given; 

My  name  on  earth  tll»  ever  in  tliy  prayer ; 

Shall  it  be  banished  from  thy  tongue  in  heaven  ? 

In  meadows  fanned  by  heaven's  life-breathing  wind. 
In  the  resplendence  of  that  glorious  sphere, 

And  larger  movements  of  the  unfettered  mind. 
Wilt  thou  forget  the  love  that  joined  us  here  ?  — 


120  THE    FAMILV    VISITOR. 

The  love  tnat  lived  through  all  the  stormy  past, 
And  meekly  with  my  harsher  nature  bore, 

And  deeper  grew,  and  tenderer,  to  the  last,  — 
Shall  it  expire  with  life,  and  be  no  more  ? 

A  happier  lot  than  mine,  and  larger  light, 
Await  thee  there,  for  thou  hast  bowed  thy  will 

In  cheerful  homage  to  the  rule  of  right, 
And  lovest  all,  and  renderest  good  for  ill. 

For  me  the  sordid  cares,  in  which  I  dwell, 

Shrink  and  consume  the  heart,  as  heat  the  scroll ; 

And  wrath  has  left  its  scar — that  fire  of  hell 
Has  left  its  fi-ightful  scar  upon  my  soul. 

Yet,  though  thou  wear'st  the  glory  of  the  sky. 
Wilt  thou  not  keep  the  same  beloved  name, 

Tlie  same  fail*,  thoughtful  brow  and  gentle  eye, 
Lovelier  in  heaven's  sweet  climate,  yet  the  same  ? 

Shalt  thou  not  teach  me,  in  that  calmer  home, 
The  wisdom  that  I  learned  so  ill  in  this  — 
V^'jlj        The  wisdom  that  is  love  —  till  I  become 
"*  Thy  fit  companion  in  that  land  of  bUss? 


FOREIGN  MONEYS, 

Taken  at  the  Ctistom-Hoitses,  as  Jixed  by  Law  or  Custom 

Antwerp,  Amsterdam,  Rotterdam,  and  all  the  JVetherlands  florins  or 
guilders,  40  cts.  Augsburg,  Boliemia  and  Trieste  florins,  48  cts. 
Batavia  I'ix  dollar,  75  cts.  Brazil  guilder,  40  cts.  Barcelona  and 
Catalonia  livres,  53J  cts.  Brabant  florin,  34  cts.  Bremen  dollar, 
75  cts.  Bengal  sicca  rupee,  50  cts.  Bombay  sicca  rupee,  50  cts. 
Calcutta  rupee,  50  cts,  Canada  pound,  and  pound  of  all  the  British 
Provinces  in  N.  A.,  $4.  China  tale,  $1,48.  Cayenne  livre,  7  to  a 
dollar,  Creveld  florin,  37  29-100  cts.  Crown  of  Tuscany,  f  1,05. 
Current  Tnarks,  28  cts.  Demnark  rix  dollar,  $1,00.  Ducat  of  JVaples, 
SOf  cts.  England  and  Ireland  j)omid  sterling,  $4,80.  France  franc, 
183  cts.  Florence  livre,  GJ  to  a  dollar.  Genoa  new  livre,  18|  cts. 
Gibraltar  rix  dollar,  $1,00.  Hamburg  rix  dollar,  $1,00.  Hamburg 
mai-c  banco,  33i  cts.  India  pagoia,  $1,84.  Java  florin,  40  cts. 
Jamaica  currency,  $3  to  the  pound.  Leghorn  dollar,  90  76-100 
cts.  Leghorn  livre,  6J  to  the  dollar.  Leipsic  florin,  48  cts.  Louis 
d'or,  or  rix  dollar  of  Bremen,  75  cts.  Ounce  of  SicUy,  $2,46.  Por- 
tugal xni\  renu,  ^\^^.  Prussian  rix  dollar,  68  29-100  cts.  Prussian 
florin,  23  cts.    Russia  rouble,  (subject  to  the  i-ate  of  exchemge  on 


EFFEMINACY HAPPINESS.  121 


27  cts.  Scudo  of  Malta,  40  cts.  Turkish  piaster,  value  to  be  ascer- 
taiued  accoriliug  to  the  exchange  on  Loudon.  Ticul  of  Siam,  61 
7-10  cts. 


EFFEMINACY. 

Most  of  the  diseases  of  men  arise  from  effeminate  life,  or  too 
great  indulgence  of  the  passions.  Nature  created  our  bodies  hardy 
and  robust,  and  capable  of  resisting  the  common  influences  of 
cold,  and  the  fatigue  necessaiy  in  the  ordinary  duties  of  hfe.  We 
enervate  and  render  ourselves  inadequate  for  those  duties,  and  for 
resisting  these  even  hralthy  influences,  by  ii  soft,  luxurious,  or  in- 
active mode  of  life.  The  agriculturist,  the  himtsman,  the  manual 
ialwrer  remain,  till  late  in  life,  full  of  energy  and  aj"dor.  The  man 
surrounded  by  plenty  or  superfluity,  and  by  all  the  delights  of  ex- 
istence, falls,  in  the  midst  of  them,  into  passive  being.  The  man- 
ner of  life  of  most  of  us  is  open  to  objection.  Too  close  rooms  by 
day  and  by  night;  too  much  nightly  clothing;  too  many  drinks 
calculated  to  debilitate  the  stomach  ;  too  much  moral  and  mental 
excitement ;  too  little  bodily  exercise,  and  that  little  most  frequently 
in  the  streets  of  cities,  not  in  rustic  air;  the  too  sedentary  lives 
of  many  of  our  females,  who  engage,  while  seated  the  greater  part 
of  the  day,  in  works  which  occupy  the  fingers  only;  late  hours, 
night  and  momiag,  instead  of  the  reverse  ;  unseasonable  hours  of 
our  repasts,  and  too  great  intervals  between  them  ;  food  too  multi- 
farious and  too  rich;  —  these  ai'e  the  sources  of  much  corporeal 
listlessness,  and  thence  disease.  —  Dick  on  Diet  and  Regimen. 


HAPPINESS. 

True  happiness  is  of  a  retired  nature,  and  an  enemy  to  pomp 
and  noise  ;  it  arises,  in  the  first  place,  from  an  enjoyment  of  one's 
self;  *and  in  the  next,  from  the  fricndsliij)  and  conver^tion  of  a 
few  select  companions :  it  loves  shade  and  solitude,  and  naturally 
haunts  groves  and  fountains,  fields  and  meadows ;  in  short,  it  feels 
every  thing  it  wants  within  itself,  and  receives  no  addition  from 
multitudes  of  witnesses  and  spectators.  On  the  contrary,  false 
happiness  loves  to  be  hi  a  crowd,  and  to  draw  the  eyes  of  tiie  world 
upon  her.  She  docs  not  receive  any  satisfaction  from  the  applause 
which  she  gives  hersell|  but  from  the  admiration  which  she  raises 
in  others.  t?he  flourishes  in  courts  and  palaces,  tJjeatres  and  as- 
semblies, and  feels  the  realities  of  existence  but  when  she  is  looked 
upon.  —  AddisQiu 

n 


122 


THE    FAMILY    VISITOR, 


THE  FROST. 


The  Frost  looked  forth  one  still,  clear  night,  * 

And  whispered,  "  Now  I  shall  be  out  of  sight ; 
So  through  the  valley  and  over  the  height 

In  silence  I'll  take  my  way. 
1  will  not  go  on  like  that  blustering  train  — 
The  wind  and  the  snow,  the  hail  and  the  rain, 
Who  make  so  much  bustle  and  noise  in  vain ; 

But  ril  be  as  busy  as  they." 

Then  he  flew  to  the  mountain,  and  powdered  its  crest ; 
He  lit  on  the  trees,  and  their  boughs  he  dressed 
Li  diamond  beads ;  and  over  the  breast 

Of  the  quivering  lake  he  spread 
A  coat  of  mail,  that  it  need  not  fear 
The  downward  point  of  many  a  spear. 
That  he  hung  on  its  margin,  far  and  near, 

Where  a  rock  could  rear  its  head. 

He  went  to  the  windows  of  those  who  sl^pt, 
And  over  each  pane,  like  a  fairy,  crept ; 
Wherever  he  breathed,  wherever  he  stepped, 

By  the  light  of  the  morn,  were  seen 
Most  beautiful  things  ;  there  were  flowers  and  trees ; 
There  were  bevies  of  birds  and  swarms  of  bees; 
There  were  cities  with  temples  and  towers  ;  and  these 

All  pictured  in  silver  sheen ! 

But  he  did  one  thing  that  was  hardly  fair  — 
He  peeped  in  the  cupboard,  and  finding  there 
That  all  had  forgotten  for  him  to  prepare, 

"Now,  just  to  set  them  a-thinking, 
I'll  bite  this  basket  of  fruit,"  said  he ; 
"  This  costly  pitcher  I'll  burst  in  three 
And  the  glass  of  water  they've  left  for  me, 

Shall  '  tchick ! '  to  tell  them  I'm  drinking !  " 

Miss  H.  F.  Govld. 


STATISTICS  OF  COTTON. 

A  writer  in  the  Mobile  Journal,  under  the  signature  of  "  Cotton 
Plant,"  sets  down  the  entire  growth  of  cotton  in  the  world  at 
1,000,000,000  lbs.  Of  this,  550  million  are  supposed  to  be  grown  in 
the  United  States  —  30  in  Brazil  —  8  in  the  West  Indies  —  27  in  Egypt 
—  3G  in  the  west  of  Africa —  ISK)  in  the  west  of  Asia  —  35  in  Mexico 
and  South  America,  except  Brazil  —  and  14  millions  elsewhere. 
This  would  give  a  poimd  of  cotton  to  every  inhabitant  on  the  globe. 


TABLES    OF    LONGEVITY. 


123 


DR.  WIGGLESWORTH'S  TABLE, 

Of  Observations  in  Aew  England,  (adopted  by  the  Supreme  Judicial 
Court  of  Massachusetts,  as  a  Ride  of  estivuding  the  Value  of  Life 
Estates,  Eastabrook  v.  Hapgood,  10  Mass.  Reports,  313.) 


Affe.. 

Peraont 

Decn-ment 
ofliie. 

Expectaliin  of 
liR  in  years 
and   dccimali. 

Ase.. 

Persons 
living. 

Decrement 
of  life. 

Expectation  of 
life  in  years 
and  decimals. 

At  birth. 

4893 

1264 

28.15 

50 

1288 

27 

21.16 

1 

3629 

274 

51 

1261 

27 

2 

3335 

188 

52 

1234 

27 

3 

3IG7 

132 

53 

1207 

27 

4 

3035 

84 

54 

1180 

27 

5 

2951 

58 

40.87 

55 

1153 

27 

18.35 

6 

2893 

65 

56 

1126 

27 

7 

2838 

47 

57 

1099 

27 

8 

2791 

40 

68 

1072 

27 

9 

2751 

36 

59 

1045 

27 

10 

2715 

28 

39.23 

60 

1018 

27 

15.43 

11 

2687 

27 

61 

991 

27 

12 

2660 

27 

62 

964 

27 

13 

2633 

27 

63 

937 

27 

11 

2606 

27 

64 

910 

27 

15 

2.579 

42 

36.16 

65 

883 

37 

12.43 

16 

2537 

43 

66 

&lf) 

37 

17 

2^94 

43 

67 

809 

37 

18 

2451 

43 

68 

772 

37 

19 

2408 

43 

69 

735 

37 

20 

2365 

43 

34.21 

70 

698 

37 

10.06 

21 

2322 

42 

71 

661 

37 

o2 

2280 

42 

72 

624 

37 

23 

2238 

42 

73 

587 

37 

at 

2196 

42 

74 

649 

37 

25 

2154 

40 

32.32 

75 

611 

37 

7.83 

26 

2114 

38 

76 

474 

37 

27 

2076 

38 

77 

437 

37 

28 

2038 

38 

78 

400 

37 

2r» 

2000 

38 

79 

363 

37 

30 

1962 

38 

30.24 

80 

326 

35 

5.85 

31 

1924 

38 

81 

29i 

34 

.i2 

1886 

38 

82 

257 

34 

S3 

18iS 

38 

83 

223 

31 

3-t 

1810 

38 

84 

189 

34 

35 

1772 

35 

28.22 

85 

155 

21 

4.57 

36 

1737 

35 

86 

134 

21 

37 

1702 

.35 

87 

113 

21 

38 

1667 

35 

88 

92 

20 

30 

1632 

35 

89 

72 

20 

10 

1597 

35 

26.(M 

90 

62 

8 

3.73 

H 

1662 

35 

91 

44 

7 

42 

1527 

35 

92 

37 

7 

43 

1492 

35 

93 

30 

7 

44 

1157 

34 

94 

23 

7 

1.5 

1423 

27 

23.92 

95 

16 

6 

1.62 

m; 

1396 

27 

96 

10 

6 

47 

1369 

27 

97 

5 

3 

48 

1312 

27 

98 

2 

1 

49 

1315 

27 

99 

1 

1 

121 


THE    FAMILY    VISITOR. 


For  the  purpose  of  comparison  with  obseiTations  in  Europe, 
St.  Maur's  Table  is  subjoined,  taken  from  observations  in  Paris 
and  the  country  around  it. 

From  his  observations  it  appears  that  of  34,000  children  born,  the 
numbers  who  attain  to  different  ages,  are  as  follows:  — 

If,  from  the  following  table,  it  is  desired  to  ascertain  Avhat  proba- 
bility there  is  tliat  a  man  of  a  given  age  will  attain  to  any  other  age, 
it  may  be  done  thus :  —  Suppose  the  man's  age  is  30,  and  it  is  de- 
sired to  know  what  his  chance  is  of  living  till  70  ;  make  the  number 
opposite  70  the  numerator,  and  the  number  opposite  30  the  denom- 
inator of  a  fraction,  and  that  fraction  will  express  the  probability 
sought  for,  with  perfect  accuracy.  In  that  case  it  appears  that  the 
probability  that  a  man  of  30  will  live  to  70  years  of  age  is  f  ^||. 


ST.  MAUR'S  TABLE. 


Of  the  24,000  bom, 

17,540  attain  to    2  years. 


15,162 

3 

14,177 

4 

13,477 

6 

12,968 

6 

12,662 

7 

12,265 

8 

12,016 

9 

11,861 

10 

11,405 

15 

10,909 

20 

10,259 

25 

9,544 

30 

8,770 

35 

7,729 

40 

7,008 

45 

6,197 

60 

6,375 

55 

4,564  attain  to  60  years. 


3;4o0 

65 

2,544 

70 

1,507 

75 

807 

80 

291 

85 

103 

90 

71 

91 

63 

92 

47 

93 

40 

94 

33 

95 

23 

96 

18 

97 

16 

98 

8 

99 

6  or  7 

100 

From  the  preceding  table  it  may  be  inferred,  that,  supposing  the 
population  in  the  United  States  to  be  10,000,000,  there  are  of  them, 
387,400     under     1  year  of  age. 
1,194,000  between    1    and     5  years. 
992,300 
945,300 
886,730 
823,800 
776,500 
716,650 
642,050 
572,300 
606,050 
439,400 
371,100 
286,!)00 
213,a50 
131,950 
70,650 
28,800 
10,250 
3,350 
820 
30    or    40 


1  an< 

1  5 

5 

10 

10 

15 

15 

20 

20 

25 

25 

30 

30 

35 

3.5 

40 

40 

45 

45 

50 

50 

55 

55 

60 

60 

65 

65 

70 

70 

75 

75 

80 

80 

85 

85 

90 

90 

95 

95 

100 

above 

100 

TABLES   OF   LONGEVITY — ANNUAL   MORTALITY. 


125 


A  TABLE, 

Shouring  the  Present  Value  of  an  Annuity  of  One  Dollar,  from  1  to 
36  years,  the  Calculation  being  made  at  the  rate  of  5  per  cent,  interest 
per  annujtu 


Years. 

Dolls 

Cts. 

&.C. 

Years. 

Dolls. 

Cts.  tec. 

1 

0 

95 

23 

19 

12 

08  53 

2 

1 

85 

94 

20 

12 

46  22 

3 

2 

72 

32 

21 

12 

82  11 

4 

3 

34 

59 

22 

13 

16  30 

6 

4 

32 

94 

23 

13 

48  85 

6 

5 

07 

56 

24 

13 

79  86 

7 

5 

78 

63 

25 

14 

09  39 

8 

6 

46 

32 

26 

14 

37  61 

9 

7 

10 

78 

27 

14 

64  30 

10 

7 

72 

17 

28 

14 

89  81 

11 

8 

30 

64 

29 

15 

14  10 

12 

8 

86 

32 

30 

15 

37  24 

13 

9 

39 

35 

31 

15 

69  28 

U 

9 

89 

86 

32 

15 

80  26 

15 

10 

37 

96 

33 

16 

00  25 

16 

10 

83 

77 

34 

16 

19  29 

17 

11 

27 

40 

35 

16 

37  41 

18 

11 

68 

95 

36 

16 

64  68 

It  is  believed  the  foregoing  tables  will  enable  a  tolerable  accountant 
to  estimate  the  present  value  of  a  dower  or  annuity.  The  rate  of  5 
per  cent,  interest  per  annum  is  taken,  because  the  chief  object  here 
IS  to  estimate  tlie  value  of  dower ;  and  experience  has  shown  that 
in  estimating  income  from  real  estates,  no  more  than  5  per  cent,  in- 
terest per  aimum  can  with  justice  be  allowed. 


ANNUAL  MORTALITY 
Of  tome  of  the  Chief  Cities  of  Europe,  and  of  the  United  States. 

London,  1  in  40 ;  Manchester,  1  in  44 ;  Glasgow,  1  in  44 ;  Paris, 
Lyons,  Barcelona  and  Strasburg,  1  in  32 ;  Geneva,  1  in  43 ;  Leghorn, 
1  m  3o ;  Berlin,  1  in  34  ;  Nice  and  Palermo,  1  in  31 ;  Madrid,  1  m  29 ; 
Naples,  1  in  28  ;  Brussels,  1  in  2(} ;  Rome,  1  in  25 ;  Jimsterdam,  1  in 
24 ;  Vienna,  1  in  22-i ;  St.  Petersburg,  1  in  37 ;  Boston,  1  in  41  2t>-100  ; 
New  York,  1  in  37  83-100;  Philadelphia,  1  in  45  68-100;  Baitimore, 
1  ill  35  44-100  ;  Charleston,  1  in  3Hli. 

That  civilization,  and  the  consequent  cleanliness  of  cities,  increases 
the  duration  of  human  life,  is  evident  from  the  fact,  that  in  London, 
in  1751,  the  mortality  was  1  in  21 ;  in  1801,  1  in  35 ;  in  1811,  1  in 
38 ;  in  1821,  1  in  40.  In  Geneva,  a  child  born  there  now  has  five 
times  the  expectation  of  life  than  one  born  there  had  tluree  cen- 
turies ago. 


i'* 


126  THE     FAMILY     VISITOR. 


EASTERN   BATHING  AND  CHAMPOOING. 

Among  the  Mohammedans,  baths  are  as  numerous  as  their 
mosques.  I  doubt  if  in  their  cities  a  single  street  can  be  found 
without  one  or  more  of  tliem.  There  is  a  general  conviction  in 
the  East,  that  personal  cleanliness  is  favorable  to  morality  ;  while, 
on  the  other  hand,  vice  and  iilth  go  naturally  together.  Baths  are 
to  be  had  at  all  prices.  For  a  single  para,  (in  value  about  one 
fourth  of  a  cent,)  you  are  furnished  with  a  private  apartment,  hot 
water,  a  towel  and  soap,  and  have  liberty  to  stay  half  an  hour. 

It  is  common  with  the  Mohammedans  to  practise  ablution  before 
prayer ;  and  they  all  bathe  once  a  day  at  least.  But  while  a  bath 
may  be  had  for  a  quarter  of  a  cent,  they  ascend  in  price,  according 
to  the  scale  of  accommodation,  until,  for  some,  you  must  pay  five 
dollars.  Separate  baths  are  provided  for  the  sexes  ;  and  the  sanc- 
tity of  this  separation  is  such,  that  a  man  who  should  violate  it 
would  be  in  imminent  hazard  of  bemg  murdered  on  the  spot. 

Entering  into  one  of  these  costly  baths,  for  example,  before 
dinner,  you  find  a  chamber,  the  windows  of  which  are  darkened 
with  colored  glass  and  odoriferous  plants.  The  air  is  cooled  by 
showers  from  a  fountain.  Agreeable  attendants  are  provided  to 
amuse  you  with  conversation.  Some  of  these  are  improvisatori, 
who  will  off  hand  invent  for  you  an  interesting  tale,  in  prose  or 
verse ;  or,  if  you  prefer  music,  they  will  sing  you  an  Arabic  song, 
and  accompany  it  with  the  guitar.  You  are  then  conducted  into  u 
wai'm  chamber,  and  thence  into  another  yet  warmer. 

Here,  perhaps,  you  will  find  singing  birds  and  some  books  ;  but 
of  the  latter  the  native  bathers  rarely  make  any  use.  Your  cham- 
ber grows  wai-mer  and  warmer,  till  at  length  you  are  glad  to  pull 
off  your  clothes. 

You  are  then  laid  out  by  your  attendants  on  a  marble  slab. 
They  are  armed  with  gloves  made  of  the  Cashmere  goat,  which  is 
rough,  but  not  sufficiently  so  to  give  you  pain.  They  then  com- 
mence the  process  of  ckampooing  you.  They  draw  out  every  joint, 
and  let  it  go,  till  it  cracks  like  a  pistol.  They  twist  about  your 
arms ;  they  bend  your  elbows,  and  thence,  passing  down  the  back, 
they  proceed  in  a  similar  manner,  till  you  hear  a  report  from  each 
one  of  the  vertebrae. 

This  loosening  of  the  joints  is  said  to  give  suppleness  to  the 
frame ;  under  which  persuasion  it  was  practised,  as  we  know,  by 
alhletdi,  the  runners  and  the  wrestlers  of  tlie  Greeks. 

They  next  proceed  to  a  process  of  violent  friction  over  your 
whole  body,  and  after  it  is  completed,  the  skin  feels  like  satin,  and 
partially  retains  this  delightliil  smoothness  for  a  day  or  two.  I  am 
well  persuaded,  that  half  the  diseases  which  prevail  among  us  may 
be  traced  to  obstructions  of  the  skin ;  and  that  the  use  of  the  bath, 
accompanied  by  severe  friction,  coiKluces  in  an  eminent  degree  to 
health  and  long  life. 

After  you  have  undergone  this  series  of  cracking  and  rubbing, 
they  finish  off  by  plunging  you  into  a  bath  of  rose- water,  up  to  your 


BIBLE    STATISTICS.  127 

neck.  You  are  then  furnished  witli  coffee,  the  chabotiqm  or  long 
pipe,  and  with  sherbet,  a  liquor  compounded  of  the  juice  of  tlie 
pomegranate,  orange,  and  citron,  but  contaminated  by  no  admix- 
ture of  alcohol.  —  Buckingham,  the  Oriental  Traveller. 


BIBLE  STATISTICS. 

The  American  Bible  Society  was  established  in  1816.  From  that 
time  to  18-36,  a  period  of  tioenty  years,  and  during  which  eight  hun- 
dred and  four  auxiliary  societies  were  formed,  the  Society  issued 
two  million  copies  of  Bibles  and  Testaments,  at  an  expense  of 
$870,466. 

A  large  amount  of  this  sum  was  produced  by  legacies,  and  by 
sums  raised  to  constitute  members  for  life,  of  which,  in  1836,  there 
were  three  thousand  two  hundred  and  eighty. 

To  show  from  whence  that  simi,  devoted  to  this  holy  cause,  was 
derived,  we  state,  for  the  consideration  of  the  Christian  community, 
that,  in  the  aforesaid  period  of  twenty  years,  the  six  New  England 
States,  with  a  population,  in  1830,  of  1,954,704,  contributed  the  sum 
of  $267,725,  or  at  the  rate  of  thirteen  cents  and  six  mills  to  each 
inhabitant;  New  York,  with  a  population  of  1,919,132,  contributed 
$241,071,  or  twelve  cents  and  five  mills  to  each  inhabitant;  —  the 
other  nineteen  States  and  three  Territories,  with  a  population  of 
8,985,358,  contributed  $361,670,  or  four  cents  and  a  quarter  of  a  mill 
to  each  individual;  —  and  that  the  aggregate  population  of  the 
United  States,  in  1830,  being  12,859,194,  Uie  proportion  to  each  in- 
habitant, for  the  twenty  years,  was  six  cents  and  seven  mills. 

Although  the  Bible  has  been  translated  into  one  hundred  and 
fifty-eight  different  languages,  and  more  than  sixteen  million  copies 
have  been  distributed  by  various  societies  in  Christendom,  still, 
more  than  two  hundred  millions  of  the  human  family  are  entirely 
destitute  of  that  inestinmble  treasure. 

Let  us  look,  for  a  moment,  and  see  what  the  people  of  the  United 
States  can  do,  without  any  great  inconvenience  to  themselves,  to 
supply  those  millions  of  inmiortal  souls,  who  are  now  literally  star- 
ving for  the  bread  of  life. 

There  are  annually  consumed,  in  the  United  States,  no  less  than 
twelve  million  pounds  of  tea;  eighty  million  pounds  of  coffee; 
thirt>'-five  million  pounds  of  tobacco  ;  and  forty-five  million  gallons 
of  ardent  spirits.  The  average  price  of  hyson  tea,  for  forty  years, 
from  1795  to  18;i5,  was  $1.16  a  pound  ;  of  cofiee,  22  cents  a  pound; 
of  unmnmtfaclured  tobacco,  8  cents  a  pound ;  and  of  New  Eng- 
land riiiM,  52  cents  a  gallon.  The  annual  cost  of  tea  is,  therefore, 
$13,920,000;  of  coflee,  $17,600,000;  of  tobacco,  $2,800,000;  and  of 
rum,  $2:3,400,000.  Thus  the  total  value  of  four  articles  annually 
consumed  in  the  United  States,  the  habitual  use  of  all  which  are 
supposed  to  be  more  or  less  repugnant  to  health  and  longevity. 


128  THE    FAMILY    VISITOR. 

amounts  to  the  enormous  sum  of  $57,720,000 ;  or  sixty-six  times 
more  in  one  year  than  has  been  given  to  the  Bible  cause  in  twenty. 

Suppose  tiie  people  of  the  United  States  should  reduce  their  ex- 
penditure on  those  articles  only  ten  per  cent.,  (a  tax  or  tithe  vi'hich  the 
good  people  of  England  annually  pay  for  the  support  of  the  clergy, 
from  their  hard-earned  necessaries  of  life,)  and  pay  that  ten  per  cent, 
towards  the  dissemination  of  a  book  whose  Author  is  God,  au 
annual  amount  would  accrue  of  $5,772,000 ;  which,  in  Jive  years, 
would  give  a  handsome  octavo  Bible  to  every  family  of  ten  persons 
included  in  those  two  hundred  millions  of  miserable  idolaters,  on 
whom  no  ray  of  gospel  light  has  ever  shone. 

In  1836,  there  were,  in  the  United  States,  more  than  a  million  and 
a  half  of  adult  persons,  who  professedly  belonged  to  four  sects  or 
denominations  of  what  is  termed  orthodox  Christians.  Now,  an 
annual  present  of  a  dollar,  or  the  value  of  a  pound  of  tea,  from 
eacli  of  these  discii)les  of  Christ,  to  this  Society,  would,  iu  the 
course  oi  nineiten  years,  produce  the  same  glorious  result. 


THE  JEWESS. 

A  Tradition  of  the  Rabbis. 

The  celebrated  teacher  Rabbi  Meir  sat  during  the  whole  of  one 
Sabbath  day  in  the  public  school,  instructing  the  people.  During 
his  absence  from  the  house,  his  two  sons  died,  both  of  them  of  un- 
common beauty,  and  enlightened  in  the  law.  His  wife  bore  them 
to  her  bed-chamber,  laid  them  upon  the  marriage-bed,  and  spread  a 
white  covering  over  their  bodies.  In  the  evening  the  Rabbi  Meir 
came  home. 

She  reached  him  a  goblet.  He  praised  the  Lord  at  the  going  out 
of  the  Sabbath,  drank,  and  asked  — 

"  Where  are  my  two  sons,  that  I  may  give  them  my  blessing .'  I 
repeatedly  looked  round  the  school,  and  I  did  not  see  them  there. 
Where  are  my,  sons,  that  they,  too,  may  drink  of  the  cup  of 
blessing  ?  " 

"  They  will  not  be  far  off,"  she  said,  and  placed  food  before  him, 
that  he  might  eat. 

He  was  in  a  gladsome  and  genial  mood ;  and  when  h^  had  said 
grace  after  the  meal,  she  thus  addressed  him :  — 

"  Rabbi,  with  thy  permission  I  would  fain  i)ropo8e  to  thee  one 
question." 

"  Ask  it,  then,  my  love,"  he  replied. 

"A  few  days  ago,  a  person  intrusted  some  jewels  to  my  custody; 
now  he  demands  them  again.     Should  1  give  them  up  ?" 

" This  is  a  question,"  said  Rabbi  Meir,  "which  my  wife  should 
not  have. thought  it  necessary  to  ask.  What!  wouldst  thou  hesitate 
of  be  reluctant  to  restore  to  every  one  his  own  ?  " 


#> 


WATER.  129 

"  No,"  she  replied  ;  "  but  yet  I  thought  it  best  not  to  restore  them 
without  acquainting  thee  therewith." 

Slie  tlicn  led  liiin  to  the  chamber,  and  stepping  to  the  bed,  took 
the  wliite  covering  Iroin  the  dead  bodies. 

"  Ah  !  my  sons,  my  sons !  "  thus  loudly  lamented  the  father ;  "  my 
sons!  the  light  of  my  eyes,  and  the  light  of  my  undei'standlug  I  1 
was  your  lather,  but  ye  wex'e  my  teachers  in  the  law." 

Tlie  mother  turned  away,  and  wept  bitterly.  At  length  she  took 
her  husband  by  the  hand,  and  said  — 

"  Rabbi,  didst  thou  not  teach  me  that  we  must  not  be  reluctant  to 
restore  that  which  was  mtrusted  to  our  keeping  ?  See,  the  Lord 
gave,  and  the  Lord  has  taken  away,  ajid  blessed  be  the  name  of  the 
Lord." 

"  Blessed  be  the  name  of  the  Lord,"  echoed  Rabbi  Meir ;  "  and 
blessed  be  his  name  for  thy  sake,  too  ;  for  well  it  is  written,  "  Whoso 
hath  found  a  virtuous  wife  hath  a  greater  treasure  tlian  costly 
pearls ;  she  openeth  her  mouth  with  wisdom,  and  in  her  tongue  is 
the  law  of  kindness." 


WATER. 

Sir  John  Floyer,  an  eminent  physician,  who  died  in  1720,  says  — 
"  Water-drinkers  are  temperate  in  their  actions,  prudent,  and  inge- 
nious ;  they  live  safe  from  those  diseases  which  affect  the  head  — 
such  as  apo))lexies,  palsies,  pain,  blindness,  deafness,  gout,  convul- 
sions, trembling,  and  madness.  It  (water)  resists  putrefaction,  and 
cools  burning  heats  and  thirsts ;  and  after  dinner  it  helps  digestion." 

"That  good  and  pure  water  has  a  balsamic  and  healing  quality  in 
it,  I  could  give  many  instances,  as  well  externally  in  curing  of 
wounds,  as  internally  —  as  ulcers,  excoriations,  &c.  For  I  once 
knew  a  gentleman  of  plentiful  fortune,  who,  by  some  accident,  fell 
to  decay  ;  and,  having  a  numerous  family  of  small  children,  whilst 
the  father  was  a  prisoner  in  the  King's  Bench,  his  family  was  re- 
duced almost  to  want ;  his  wife  and  children  living  on  little  better 
than  bread  and  ivater.  But  I  never  saw  such  a  change  in  six  months' 
time,  as  I  did  in  this  unhappy  family ;  for  the  children  that  were 
always  ailing,  and  valetudinary,  as  coughs,  king's  evil,  &c.,  were 
recovered  to  a  miracle,  looked  fresh,  well-colored,  and  lusty,  their 
flesh  hard  and  i)lump.  But,  I  remember,  the  mother  told  me,  it 
being  a  plentiful  year  of  fi-uit,  she  gave  them  often  baked  apples 
with  their  coarse  bread,  which,  I  think,  might  very  much  contribute  to 
tlieir  healtli.  And  that  most  remarkable  story  of  Alexander  Selkirk, 
a  Scotchman,  who,  from  a  leaky  ship,  was,  upon  his  own  request, 
set  on  shore  on  an  island  in  the  South  Sea,  called  Juan  Fernandez, 
about  the  latitude  of  thirty-three  degrees,  where  he  lived  four  years 
and  four  months  by  himself  alone,  and  ate  nothing  but  goats'  flesh, 
aud  drank  icater,  having  neither  bread  nor  salt,  as  he  told  me  him- 
self, at  tlie  Bath  where  I  met  him  ;  and  that  he  was  three  times  as 
strong,  by  exercise  aud  such  a  diet,  as  evet  he  was  in  bis  life.    But 


m 


130  •  THE    FAMILY    VISITOU. 

when  taken  up  by  the  two  ships,  the  Duke  and  Duchess,  sent  out 
from  Bristol  for  the  Soutli  Sea,  that  eating  the  ship-fare  with  the 
other  seamen,  and  drinking  beer  and  otlier  fermented  Hquors,  his 
Btrengtii  by  degrees  began  to  leave  him,  like  cutting  off"  Samson's 
hair,  crinitum,  (to  make  a  word,)  or  lock  by  lock,  so  that  in  one 
month's  time,  he  had  not  more  strength  than  another  man.  I  insert 
tliis  relation  to  show  that  water  is  not  only  sufficient  to  subsist  us 
as  a  potulent,  (drink,)  but  that  it  liquefies  and  concocts  our  food 
better  than  any  fermented  liquors  whatsoever;  and  even  those 
strong  spirituous  drinks,  were  it  not  ibr  the  watery  particles  in 
them,  would  prove  altogether  destructive,  and  so  far  from  nourishing 
that  they  would  inflame  and  parboil  the  tunicles  of  our  stomachs, 
as  is  daily  seen,  and  especially  in  the  livers  of  most  clareteers,  and 
great  drinkers  of  other  strong  liquors." 

Pomponius  Atticus,  the  friend  of  Cicero,  to  whom  so  many  works 
and  letters  of  the  latter  ai'e  addressed,  whilst  laboring  under  that 
uncomfortable  state  of  the  mind  produced  by  disease  of  the  stomach, 
became  disgusted  with  life,  and  resolved  to  destroy  himself.  He 
called  together  his  relations  and  friends,  to  communicate  to  them 
his  design,  and  to  consult  with  them  upon  the  species  of  death  he 
should  make  choice  of.  Agrippa,  his  son-in-law,  not  daring  openly 
to  oppose  his  resolution,  persuaded  him  to  destroy  himself  by 
tamine ;  advising  him,  however,  to  make  use  of  a  little  water  to 
alleviate  the  sufferings  which  would  at  first  result  from  entire 
abstinence.  Atticus  commenced  this  regimen,  whilst  he  conversed 
with  his  family,  philosophized.with  his  intimate  friends,  and  passed 
many  days  in  thus  preparing  himself  for  death.  This,  however, 
did  not  occur;  on  the  contrary,  by  restricting  himself  solely  to 
water  as  his  only  nourishment,  the  pains  of  the  stomach  and  bowels, 
by  which  he  had  been  previously  tormented,  ceased;  and  he 
speedily  felt  Jiimself  improved  in  health,  and  more  tranquil  in  mind. 
Agrippa  now  attempted  to  convince  him,  that  as  the  disease  under 
which  he  had  labored  was  happily  removed,  he  ought  to  renounce 
his  design  of  putting  a  period  to  his  existence.  Atticus  confessed, 
at  length,  the  justness  of  his  son-in-law's  argument :  he  accordingly 
followed  his  advice,  and  lived  until  a  very  advanced  age. 


WOMEN,  WIVES,   AND  MARRIAGE. 

The  following  is  an  extract  from  Henry's  Commentary  on  the 
Bible:  — 

"  Adam  was  first  formed,  then  Eve,  and  she  was  made  of  the 
man,  and  for  the  man,  all  which  are  urged  as  reasons  for  the 
humility,  modesty,  silence,  and  submissiveness  of  that  sex  in  general, 
and  particularly  the  subjection  and  reverence  which  wives  owe  to 
their  husbands.  Yet  man  being  made  lord  of  the  creation,  as  the 
best  and  most  excellent  of  all.  Eve  being  made  after  Adam,  and  out 
of  him,  puts  an  honor  upon  that  sex  as  the  glory  of  the  man.    If 


WOMEN,    WIVES,    AND    MARRIAGE.  131 

man  is  the  head,  she  is  the  cro^vn,  a  crown  to  her  husband,  the 
crown  to  the  visible  creation.  The  man  was  dust  refined,  but  tJie 
woman  was  dust  double  refined,  one  remove  farther  fi-om  tlie  earth. 
"  Woman  was  made  out  of  a  rib  out  of  the  side  of  Adam  ;  not 
made  of  his  head  to  top  him ;  nor  out  of  his  feet  to  be  trampled 
upon  by  him;  but  out  of  his  side,  to  be  equal  with  him  ;  under  his 
arm  to  be  protected ;  and  near  his  heart,  to  be  beloved." 


It  is  said,  that  among  the  most  curious  specimens  of  Hindoo  liter- 
ature, is  a  peom  entitled  the  "  Ocean  of  Wisdom."  One  of  the 
chapters  contains  the  following  remarks  on  the  duty  of  wives:  — 

"  She  is  the  true  helpmate,  who,  possessing  an  amiable  temper 
and  prudent  disposition,  proportions  her  expenditiu-e  to  her  hus- 
band's income.  The  gooclness  of  her  heart  will  manifest  itself  in 
feeding  holy  hermits,  in  graciously  entertaining  her  husband's 
guests,  and  in  showing  mercy  to  the  poor.  Her  prudence  will  be 
displayed  in  providing  personally  for  the  future  wants  of  her  family, 
in  jireparing  her  husband's  meals  with  regularity,  and  in  maintaining 
the  just  reputation  of  a  good  manager.  She  will  take  care  so  to 
arrange  the  current  expenditure,  as  not  to  encroach  on  the  capi- 
tal of  her  husband's  property.  Where  such  conduct  in  the  wife  is 
wanting,  though  the  house  shotdd  overflow  with  gold,  yet  shall  it 
prove  to  the  owner  no  better  than  an  empty  hovel." 


Where  will  our  sorrows  receive  the  same  solace  as  in  the  bosom 
of  our  family  ?  Whose  hand  wipes  the  tear  from  our  cheek,  or  the 
chill  of  deatii  from  our  brow,  with  the  same  fondness,  as  that  of  the 
wife?  If  the  raging  elements  are  contending  without,  here  is  a 
shelter.  If  war  is  desolating  the  country,  here  is  peace  and  tran- 
quillity. Blissful  and  happy  hour,  that  unites  us  together  in  sweet 
and  holy  companionship,  1  bid  you  a  joyful  welcome.  —  J\L  Maltson. 


King  James  the  First  wrote  on  a  copy  of  "  Godly  Letters,"  be- 
longing to  his  daughter,  and  printed  in  1614,  as  follows :  — 

"  A  good  wife  is  to  God  zelus, 
to  her  husband  chast,  to  tlie  poore 
Pitefull  —  to  neighbours  gentell, 
to  her  chcledren  example, 
all  which  God  grante  you  my 
Good  daughter  for  his  sonne 
Cristes  sake." 

"Never  marry,"  says  William  Pen n,  "but  for  love;  but  see  that 
thou  lovest  what  is  lovely.  If  love  l)e  not  thy  chief  motive,  thou  wilt 
soon  grow  weary  of  a  marriage  state,  and  stray  frora  thy  |)romise,  to 
search  out  pleasure  in  forbidden  jilaces.  It  is  the  diflercnce  be- 
tween love  and  passion,  that  this  is  fixed,  that  is  volatile.  They  that 
marry  for  money  cannot  have  tlie  true  satisfaction  of  marriage,  the 
requisite  means  being  wanting.  O  how  sordid  is  man  grown  !  man, 
the  noblest  creature  in  the  world !     As  a  god  on  earth,  and  the  image 


132 


THE    FAMILY    VISITOR. 


of  Him  that  made  us,  tlius  mistake  earth  for  heaven,  and  worship 
gold  for  God."  ^ 


COMPARATIVE   VALUE    OF  FIRE   VTOODS. 


The  following  table  will  be  found  valuable  to  house-keepers,  in 
assisting  them  to  form  an  estimate  of  the  comparative  value  of  fire 
woods,  in  a  seasoned  state,  or  when  burnt  to  chai'coal.  It  may  be 
well  to  explain  the  table,  so  far  as  to  say,  that  if  shellbark  hickory, 
the  standard,  is  worth  $8  a  cord,  white  oak  is  worth  $6.48 ;  chest- 
nut, $4.16 ;  Lombardy  poplar,  $3.20 ;  and  other  kinds  in  that  pro- 
portion. In  another  publication,  it  is  stated  that  a  cord  of  wood, 
when  green,  contains  1443  pounds  of  water. 


Shellbark  Hickory, 

Common  Walnut, 

White  Oak, 

Thick  Shellbark  Hickory, 

White  Ash, 

Scrub  Oak, 

Witch  Hazel, 

Apple  Tree, 

Rod  Oak, 

Black  Gum, 

Black  Walnut, 

White  Beech, 

Black  Birch, 

Yellow  Oak, 

Sugar  Maple, 

Sassafras, 

White  Elm, 

Holly, 

Wild  Cherry, 

Yellow  Pine, 

Sycamore,  or  Buttonwood 

Chestnut, 

Spanish  Oak, 

Poplar, 

Butternut, 

White  Birch, 

Jersey  Pine, 

Pitch  Pine, 

White  Pine, 

Lombardy  Poplar, 


II 


1.000 
.949 
.855 
.8-29 
.792 
.747 
.784 
.097 
.728 
.703 
.681 
.724 
.697 
.653 
.644 
.618 
.580 
.602 
.597 
.551 
.5a5 
.522 
.548 
.563 
.567 
.530 
.478 
.420 
.418 
.397 


is 
II 


4409 
4241 
3821 
3705 
3450 
3339 
3505 
3115 
2254 
3142 
3044 
3236 
3115 
2919 
2878 
2762 
2592 
2691 
2668 
2463 
2391 
2333 
2449 
2516 
2.534 
2369 
2137 
1904 
1868 
1774 


45 


.625 
.637 
.401 
.509 
.547 
.392 
.368 
.445 
.400 
.400 
.418 
.518 
.428 
.295 
.431 
.427 
.357 
.374 
.411 
.333 
.374 
.379 
.362 
.383 
.237 
.364 
.385 
.298 
.293 
.245 


el 


32.89 
33.52 
21.10 
26.78 
28.78 
20.63 
19.36 
23.41 
21.05 
21.05 
22.00 
27.26 
22.52 
15.52 
22.68 
22.47 
18.79 
19.68 
21.63 
17.i52 
19.68 
19.94 
19.05 
20.15 
12.47 
19.]5 
20.26 
15.68 
15.42 
12.89 


"s-ll 

5S-8 


1172 
1070 
826 
848 
888 
774 
750 
779 
630 
696 
687 
635 
604 
631 
617 
624 
644 
613 
579 
585 
564 
590 
562 
549 
527 
450 
532 
510 
455 
444 


P 


1 1" 


•Sis 
ll 


100 
95 
81 
81 
77 
73 
72 
70 
69 
67 
65 
65 
63 
60 
60 
59 
58 
57 
55 
54 
52 
52 
52 
52 
51 
48 
48 
43 
42 
40 


The  above  table  is  abridged  from  Browne's  Sylva  Americana.  The 


LARGE    HOTELS.  133 

estimates  are  the  result  of  experiments  made  by  Marcus  Bull,  aiid 
ma}'  be  deemed  accurate. 

Mr.  Browne,  in  the  preface  to  his  valuable  work  on  American 
forest  trees,  makes  the  following  judicious  remarks  :  — 

"  From  the  sensible  decay  and  general  havock  made  in  our  forests, 
we  should  be  reminded,  that  such  as  do  yet  remain  entire,  may  be 
carefully  preserved,  and  the  loss  of  such  as  are  destroyed  sedulously 
repaired.  There  is  no  part  of  husbandry  which  men  more  com- 
monly neglect  than  that  of  planting  trees;  without  which  they  can 
neither  expect  fruit,  ornament,  nor  delight,  from  their  labors.  But 
they  seldom  do  tliis  till  they  begin  to  be  wise,  that  is,  till  they  grow 
old,  and  find  by  experience  the  prudence  and  necessity  of  it.  When 
Ulysses,  after  a  ten  years'  absence,  was  returned  from  Troy,  and 
found  his  aged  father  in  the  field  planting  trees,  he  asked  him,  'why, 
being  now  so  far  advanced  in  years,  he  would  put  himself  to  the  fa- 
tigue and  labor  of  planting  that,  of  which  he  was  never  likely  to  en- 
joy the  fruits.'  The  good  old  man,  taking  him  for  a  stranger,  gently 
replied,  '  I  plant  against  my  son  Ulysses  comes  home.'  " 


LARGE   HOTELS. 

Of  late  j'ears,  there  has  existed  a  spirit  of  competition  among  those 
interested  in  erecting  buildings  for  pubUc  entertainment  in  our 
cities,  which  has  brought  into  being  a  number  of  hotels,  or  coffee 
houses,  of  great  size,  and,  in  point  of  splendor,  equal,  if  not  superior,  to 
any  in  Europe.  We  mention  a  few  of  them  merely  as  among  the  lions 
of  the  day ;  for  it  is  the  opinion  of  many  intelligent  travellers,  that 
taverns  of  more  moderate  dimensions,  even  many  of  the  smallest 
class  in  our  country  towns,  ai*e  full  as  comfortable,  and  are  likely  to 
continue  so,  unless  landlords  adopt  the  principle  of  graduating  the 
quality  of  their  coffee  by  the  size  of  their  buildings. 

The  TremotU  House,  on  Tremont  and  Beacon  streets,  Boston,  is 
unrivalled  for  beauty,  though  excelled  by  others  in  size.  Its  front, 
on  Tremont  street,  of  dark-colored  hewn  granite,  is  160  feet  in 
length,  and  three  stories  high.  The  wings  are  four  stories  high. 
That  on  Beacon  street  is  84  by  34  feet ;  and  the  other,  on  the  south, 
fronting  an  open  square,  is  110  by  40  feet.  The  dining  hall  is  70  by 
31,  and  14  feet  high.  This  building  contains  180  rooms.  It  was 
completed  on  the  IGth  of  Oct  1829. 

HoWs  Hotel,  New  York.  This  granite  building  is  100  feet  on  Ful- 
ton street,  85i  on  Water  street,  76  on  Pearl  street,  and  seven  stories 
liigh.  From  the  ground  to  the  top  of  the  coniice  is  75  feet;  and  to 
the  top  of  tlie  dome,  which  surmounts  the  building,  is  125  feet  It 
fronts  on  Water  street  and  the  East  River.  It  has  three  large  din- 
ing halls,  25  parlors,  and  137  other  rooms.  In  this  house  1000  per- 
sons may  dine,  and  300  lodge,  with  convenience.  An  Artesian  well, 
12 


134  THE    FAMILY    VISITOK. 

of  700/ee<  in  denth,  is  sunk  in  the  cellar,  which  furnishes  a  constant 
supply  of  excellent  water,  and  which  is  conveyed,  by  steam  power, 
to  every  room  in  the  house ;  and  to  large  reservoirs  on  the  top  of 
the  building,  to  be  used  in  case  of  fire.  This  spacious  and  conve- 
nient resort  for  travellers  is  in  the  centre  of  business,  and  near  the 
landing-places  of  numerous  steam-boats.  It  was  constructed  in  1832, 
and  is  a  noble  monument  of  the  enterprise  and  perseverance  of  the 
worthy  men  whose  name  it  bears. 

The  Jlstor  Hotel,  in  New  York,  built  and  owned  by  John  Jacob 
Astor,  Esq.,  of  that  city,  was  completed  in  1836.  This  immense 
structure  is  situated  on  ]3roadway,  and  occupies  the  block  opposite 
the  Park.  Its  exterior  is  of  beautiful  Quincy  granite,  200  feet  on 
Broadway,  154  on  Barclay  street,  and  147  on  Vesey  street.  It  is 
five  stories  in  height,  and  77  feet  from  the  ground  to  the  top  of  the 
cornice.  The  wings  of  this  building  form  a  court,  or  hollow  square, 
of  about  70  by  100  feet,  so  that  the  rooms  on  all  sides  receive  light 
and  air  from  the  streets  and  centre.  The  main  entrance  to  the  hotel 
is  in  the  centre  of  the  building  on  Broadway,  and  opens  to  a  splen- 
did vestibule,  supported  by  columns;  the  floor  of  which,  and  of  the 
halls  below,  are  of  mosaic  work  of  blue  and  white  marble.  The 
basement  story  is  divided,  and  comprises  twenty  commodious  stores. 
The  whole  number  of  rooms  in  this  building  is  390.  The  gentle- 
men's dining-room  is  100  feet  by  40,  and  20  feet  in  height ;  the  la- 
dies' dining-room  is  about  50  by  45  feet.  Between  80  and  100  ser- 
vjints  are  in  constant  attendance.  The  kitchen  is  on  a  level  with 
the  dining-rooms,  in  which  the  arrangements  for  cooking,  in  all  its 
various  forms,  are  upon  the  most  modern  and  improved  methods. 
Beneath  the  kitchen  are  the  laundry  and  wash-rooms,  where,  by  the 
multiplication  of  stationai-y  wash-tubs,  and  the  power  of  steam, 
clothes  may  be  washed,  dried,  and  ready  for  use,  in  half  an  hour 
after  they  are  given  to  the  laundress.  The  clothes  are  dried  in  five 
minutes,  by  spreading  them  on  horses  that  run  on  railroads  into  a 
close  apartment  heated  to  a  high  temperature  by  steam.  Under  the 
laundry  and  wash-room  is  the  steam  power,  a  rotary  engine,  which 
pumps  water  to  four  large  reservoirs  under  the  roof,  supplies  steam 
to  the  kitchen  and  wash-room,  and  cold  and  warm  water  to  the 
bathing-rooms  and  to  eveiy  chamber  in  the  house.  This  engine, 
after  pumping  water,  cooking  victuals,  washing,  ironing,  and  drying 
clothes,  grinding  coffee,  cleaning  the  knives  and  forks,  boots  and 
shoes,  and  performing  numerous  other  jobs  about  the  house,  has  a 
considerable  power  in  reserve.  It  is  said  that  this  busy-body  cost 
about  $1000,  and  that  its  average  expense  for  fuel  does  not  exceed 
$1.25  a  day.  This  establishment  is  so  extensive,  that  the  inhabit- 
ants of  a  good-sized  town  may  hold  public  meetings,  take  their 
meals,  and  lodge  within  its  wedls,  without  jogging  each  other's 
elbows. 

The  Exchange  Hotel,  at  New  Orleans,  lately  completed,  is  said  to 
be  the  largest  hotel  in  the  world.  It  is  228  feet  in  front,  by  196 
throughout ;  six  stories  high,  surmounted  by  a  dome  and  tower,  the 
top  being  113  feet  from  the  ground.     It  contains  350  rooms.     The 


ladies'    shoes LYNN,  MASS.  1% 

dining-hall  is  130  feet  long  by  50,  and  22  feet  high,  with  parallel 
coiuiiine,  in  the  Corinthian  order,  on  either  side.  The  ladies'  dining- 
room,  over  the  bathing-house,  is  60  feet  by  36.  A  superb  marble- 
statue  of  Washington,  made  in  Italy,  by  Carlo  Richi,  tlic  gift  of 
John  Hagan,  Esq.,  and  which  cost  $14,000,  is  placed  in  the  centre 
of  the  colonnade,  at  the  entrance  of  the  grand  saloon.  This  statue, 
which  is  an  exact  likeness,  represents  the  Father  of  his  Country  in  a 
sitting  posture,  clothed  in  the  Roman  toga  and  ai-mor,  holding  in 
his  left  hand  his  Farewell  Address,  having  his  right  uplifted  as  if  in 
the  act  of  speaking,  and  his  sword  lying  at  his  feet  This  building, 
with  its  furniture,  is  said  to  have  cost  $670,000. 

The  public  would  be  benefited  by  notices  being  more  generally 
given  in  our  books  of  reference,  of  the  numerous  respectable  houses 
of  public  entertainment  in  our  country.  A  good  house  is  an  impor- 
tant item  of  information  to  the  traveller ;  and  so  far  as  the  New 
£ngland  states  are  concerned,  the  editor  wiU  cheerfully  notice  them 
in  the  JVorthem  Register^  provided  those  interested  will  give 
him  their  locations  and  other  necessary  facts. 


LADIES'   SHOES  — Z,ynn,  Mass. 

It  is  curious  to  observe  the  changes  that  occur  in  the  fashion  and 
manufacture  of  many  articles  of  dress,  during  the  common  age  of, 
man.  Ladies'  shoes,  for  instance,  have  undergone  a  complete  met- 
amorphosis in  the  course  of  seventy  years.  The  history  of  the  town 
of  Lynn,  in  Massachusetts,  is  identified  with  the  manufacture  of  that 
article. 

"  In  olden  times,"  says  the  Newburyport  Herald,  "  ladies'  shoes 
were  made  in  Lynn  of  common  woollen  cloth,  or  coarse  curried 
leather ;  afterwards  of  stufis,  such  as  cassimere,  everlasting,  shalloon, 
and  russet ;  some  of  satin  and  damask,  others  of  satin  lasting  and 
florentine.  They  were  generally  cut  with  straps,  for  large  buckles, 
which  were  worn  in  those  days  by  women  as  well  as  men.  Ladies' 
shoes,  60  or  70  years  ago,  were  made  mostly  with  white  and  russet 
rands,  and  stitched  very  fine  on  the  rand  witli  white-waxed  thread. 
Some  were  made  turn  pumps  and  channel  pumps,  all  having  wooden 
heels,  called  cross-cut,  common,  and  court  heels.  Then  the  cork,  plug, 
and  wedge  or  spring  heels,  came  into  use.  The  sole-leather  was 
all  worked  with  the  flesh  side  out. 

Previous  to  the  war  of  the  revolution,  the  market  for  Lynn  shoes 
was  principally  confined  to  New  England ;  some  few,  however, 
were  exported  to  Philadelphia.  Many  individuals  with  small  capi- 
tal carried  on  the  business  in  their  own  families.  Fathers,  sons,  ap- 
prentices, and  one  or  two  journeymen,  all  in  one  small  shop,  with  a 
chimney  in  one  corner,  formed  the  whole  establishment. 

After  the  revolution,  the  business  assumed  a  different  aspect. 


136  THE    FAMILY    VISITOR. 

Enterprising  individuals  embarked  in  the  business  in  good  earnest ; 
hired  a  great  number  of  journeymen,  built  large  shops,  took  appren- 
tices, and  drove  the  business.  Master  workmen  shipped  their  shoes 
to  the  south,  so  that  Lynn  shoes  took  the  place  of  English  and  other 
imported  shoes.  Morocco  and  kid  leather,  suitable  for  shoes,  began 
to  be  imported  from  England,  w^hich  soon  took  the  place  of  stuffs. 
Roan  shoes  were  now  little  called  for ;  and  the  improvement  of 
working  the  sole-leather  grain  side  out,  was  now  generally  adopted, 
making  what  is  called  di^  bottoms.  About  the  year  1794,  wooden 
heels  began  to  go  out  of  use,  by  the  introduction  of  leather  spring 
heels.  This  improvement  progressed  gradually,  until  the  heel  mak- 
ing, which  was  once  a  good  business,  was  totally  rumed." 

As  early  as  1795, 300,000  pair  of  these  shoes  were  made  in  Lynn. 
The  population  of  the  town,  at  that  time,  including  Saugus,  was 
2291.  In  1810,  1,000,000  pair  were  made,  valued  at  $800,000.  In 
1836,  2,430,929  pair  of  ladies'  shoes  were  manufactui-ed  in  Lynn, 
exclusive  of  Saugus  ;  the  value  of  which,  including  a  few  of  other 
kinds,  amounted  to  $1,794,833.  Lynn  is  a  very  flourishing  and  beau- 
tiful town,  9  miles  N.  E.  of  Boston,  5  miles  S.  W.  of  Salem,  and  in- 
cludes a  valuable  mineral  spring,  and  the  celebrated  peninsula  of 
JVahant.    Population,  in  1837,  9323. 

The  manufacture  of  shoes  and  boots  of  various  kinds,  is  very  ex- 
tensively pursued,  particularly  in  Massachusetts  and  other  northern 
states.  Our  own  country  is  principally  supplied  with  this  species 
of  manufacture  from  this  source,  and  large  quantities  are  exported 
to  foreign  countries. 

It  has  been  stated  that  this  branch  of  industry  exceeds  in  amount 
any  other  in  our  country ;  not  excepting  |he  culture  of  cotton.  We 
'  shall  soon  be  able  to  give  some  important  statistics  on  this  subject. 


VALUE  OF  SLAVES. 

The  sum  of  money  recently  paid  by  the  British  government  for 
the  abolition  of  slavejy  in  the  British  colonies,  was  £20,000,000 
sterling,  or  $96,000,000.  Commissioners  were  appointed  to  ascer- 
tain the  number  of  slaves  in  the  nineteen  colonies,  and  to  appraise 
their  value  from  the  average  of  all  the  sales  made  within  the  last 
eight  years  previous  to  that  time.  This  was  performed  with  great 
care.  The  whole  number  of  slaves,  of  all  ages,  sexes,  and  condi- 
tions, was  found  to  be  780,993  ;  and  the  aggregate  value,  £45,281,739, 
or  $217,352,347:  average  appraised  value,  $278.  The  average 
amount  paid  was  $123;  being  $155  less  than  the  appraisement. 
The  value  of  slaves  varied,  in  the  different  colonies,  from  $131  to 
$577  each.  The  highest  appi'aisal  was  in  Honduras,  the"  lowest  in 
Bermuda,  In  Jamaica,  where  the  largest  number  exist,  (311,692,) 
they  were  appraised  at  $214  each. 

The  number  of  slaves  in  the  United  States,  in  1830,  was  2,008,990. 


WniSKV    vs.    BREAD. OLD    TIMES.  137 

The  uicrease  of  slaves  in  the  United  States  for  ten  years,  from  1820 
to  1830,  was  SGy^ff  per  cent.  By  that  ratio,  the  number  of  slaves  m 
the  United  Suites,  in  1838,  was  2,597,223.  The  value  of  these- 
slaves,  at  the  average  appraisal  of  tliose  in  the  British  colonies, 
would  amount  to  $558,499,220.  At  the  average  (irice  paid  by  the 
British  government,  the  value  of  the  slaves  in  the  United  States  will 
amount  to  $247,105,770. 


WmSKY  vs.  BREAD. 

It  is  stated  on  unquestionable  authority,  that  the  cities  of  New 
York  and  Brooklyn,  and  the  neighboring  towns  of  Jersey  City  and 
Williamsburg,  containing  a  population  of  300,000,  consume,  annu- 
ally, 558,450  barrels  of  flour,  or  its  equivalent,  2,792,250  bushels  of 
grain.  It  is  also  stated  that  more  than  3,000,000  bushels  of  corn  and 
rye  are  annually  destroyed  in  those  places  by  distillation,  besides  a 
vast  quantity  used  in  the  manufacture  of  beer.  It  therefore  follows, 
that  a  larger  quantity  of  grain  than  would  feed  the  whole  population, 
worth  at  least  $3,000,000,  is  annually  converted  into  an  article  worse 
than  useless.  These  are  not  the  only  places  in  the  United  States 
wliere  the  distillation  of  grain  is  carried  on  to  an  enormous  extent. 
The  number  of  places  licensed  to  retail  ardent  spirits,  in  the  city  of 
New  York,  in  1836,  was  2863.  It  is,  however,  due  to  New  York  to 
state,  that  the  Eighth  Ward  Temperance  Society  in  that  city  is  prob- 
ably the  largest  iu  the  world,  according  to  its  population.  The  num- 
ber of  members  is  about  10,000.  The  pooulatiou  of  the  ward,  in 
1835,  was  28,570. 


OLD   TIMES. 

[Extnet  flt>in  an  Historical  SIcetch  of  Amherst,  N.  H.,    published  bjr  the  late  Jobit 
Fabuek,  Eaq.,  of  Concord,  N.  U.,  Cor.  Sec.  of  the  N.  H.  Hist.  Soc.] 

Coming  from  the  old  towns  of  Massachusetts,  the  first  settlers  of 
Amherst,  as  of  many  other  towns  in  N.  H.,  brought  with  them  the 
customs  which  prevailed  at  the  time  of  their  emigration.  They 
were  plain  and  simple  in  their  dress.  In  living,  they  had  few  or 
none  of  the  luxuries  of  life.  Their  fare  was  plain  and  substantial 
They  used  considerable  liquid  food,  such  as  milk,  broths,  pea  and 
bean  porridge.  Chocolate  was  sometimes  used,  and  was  probably 
esteemed  as  one  of  their  greatest  luxuries.  Coffee  was  unknown  to 
them  ;  and  though  tea  had  been  introduced  into  the  country  about 
sixteen  years  when  the  town  was  settled,  the  first  inhabitants  had 
not  tasted  of  it  The  first  used  in  the  place  was  sent  by  sonje  Bos- 
ton friends  to  the  family  of  the  minister,  who  were  unacquainted 
with  the  method  of  preparing  it,  but  concluded  it  must  be  boiled  in 
an  iron  kettle,  or  pot,  in  a  manner  similar  to  their  boiling  their  Irriuid 
12* 


138  THE    FAMILY    VISITOR. 

food.  They  therefore  put  in  a  quantity  of  the  exotic  herb,  and,  hav- 
ing boiled  it  till  they  supposed  "it  was  done,"  they  dipped  it  out  and 
sipped  of  it,  but  doubtless  found  it  less  palatable  than  their  favorite 
beverage.  Tea  had  become  in  considerable  use  before  the  revolu- 
tionary war.  During  this  struggle,  the  drinking  of  foreign  tea  was 
deemed  a  crime,  and  many  adopted  the  use  of  what  was  called  lib- 
erty/ tea,  as  a  substitute  for  the  Chinese  herb.  "  It  was  made  of  four- 
leaved  loosestrife.  This  plant  was  pulled  up  like  flax ;  its  stocks, 
stripped  of  their  leaves,  were  boiled,  and  the  leaves  were  put  into  an 
iron  kettle,  and  basted  with  the  liquor  of  the  stocks.  After  this  pro- 
cess, the  leaves  were  removed  into  platters,  and  placed  in  an  oven  to 
dry.  A  pound  of  this  tea  would  go  as  far  as  one  of  souchong." 
Cider,  during  the  first  years,  was  brought  from  the  old  towns.  It 
was  a  common  di-ink.  Wine  was  a  great  rarity,  and  ardent  spirits 
were  rather  regarded  for  medicinal  purposes  than  as  fit  for  an  article 
of  drink.  The  latter,  however,  too  soon  came  into  use,  and  so  early  as 
1771,  the  town  authorized  tlie  purchase  of  eight  bairels  of  New  Eng- 
land rum,  to  be  used  by  those  who  assisted  in  raising  the  meeting- 
house. Sugar,  which  was  known  in  this  country  as  early  as  1631, 
was  used  by  them,  as  was  also  molasses,  but  only  in  small  quantities. 
The  most  common  conveyance  was  by  horses  fitted  out  with  sad- 
dles and  pillions.  Two  could  ride  in  this  way  the  same  animal, 
and  oftentimes  an  infant  was  superadded.  A  few  years  before  the 
revolutionary  war,  it  began  to  be  the  practice  to  ti'ot  horses.  Pre- 
viously, these  animals  had  paced.  The  first  or  second  chaise  brought 
into  Amherst,  was  owned  by  Mr.  Benjamin  Kendrick,  and  he  rode 
in  it  until  he  was  86  years  old.  As  late  as  1810,  he  journeyed  with 
it  to  Boston  and  its  neighborhood.  It  presented  such  an  antique 
appearance,  that  it  was  often  called  the  "  old  ark." 


LOVE-LETTERS 

BETWEEN    THE    FIRST   GOVERNOR   OF    MASSACHUSETTS   AND   HIS    WIFE, 
ABOUT   THE   YEAR    1628. 

"My  most  sweet  Husband,  —  How  dearly  welcome  thy  kind 
letter  was  to  me,  I  am  not  able  to  express.  The  sweetness  of  it  did 
much  refresh  me.  What  can  be  more  pleasing  to  a  wife,  than  to 
hear  of  the  welfare  of  her  best  beloved,  and  how  he  is  pleased  with 
her  poor  endeavors !  I  blush  to  hear  myself  commended,  knowing 
my  own  wants.  But  it  is  your  love  that  conceives  the  best,  and 
makes  all  things  seem  better  than  they  are.  I  wish  that  I  may  be 
always  pleasing  to  tliee,  and  that  those  comforts  we  have  in  each 
other  may  be  daily  increased,  as  far  as  they  may  be  pleasing  to  God. 
I  will  use  that  speech  to  thee,  that  Abigail  did  to  David ;  '  I  will  be 
a  servant  to  wash  the  feet  of  my  lord.'  I  will  do  any  service  wherein 
I  may  please  my  good  husband.  I  confess  I  cannot  do  enough  for 
thee ;  but  thou  art  pleased  to  accept  the  will  for  the  deed,  and  rest 
contented. 


LOVE-LETTERS.  139 

"I  have  many  reasons  to  make  me  love  thee,  whereof  I  will  name 
two:  first,  because  thou  lovest  God;  and  secondly,  because  thou 
lovest  me.  If  these  two  were  wanting,  all  the  rest  would  be  eclipsed. 
But  I  must  leave  this  discourse,  and  go  about  my  household  affairs. 
I  am  a  bad  housewife  to  be  so  long  from  them ;  but  I  must  needs 
borrow  a  little  time  to  talk  with  thee,  my  sweet  heart.  I  hope  thy 
business  draws  to  an  end.  It  will  be  but  two  or  three  weeks  before 
I  see  thee,  though  they  be  long  ones.  God  will  bring  us  together 
in  his  good  time  ;  for  which  time  I  shall  pray. 

"  Farewell,  my  good  husband ;  the  Loi-d  keep  thee. 
"  Your  obedient  wife, 

"Margaret  Winthrop." 

"My  qood  Wife,  —  Although  I  wrote  to  thee  last  week,  yet,  hav- 
ing so  fit  opportunity,  I  must  needs  write  to  thee  again  ;  for  I  do 
esteem  one  little,  sweet,  short  letter  of  thine,  (such  as  the  last  was,) 
to  be  well  worthy  two  or  three  from  me. 

"I  began  this  letter  yesterday  at  two  o'clock,  thinking  to  have 
been  large,  but  was  so  taken  up  by  company  and  business,  as  1 
could  get  but  hither  by  this  morning.  It  grieves  me  that  I  have  not 
liberty  to  make  better  expression  of  my  love  to  thee,  who  art  more 
dear  to  me  than  all  earthly  tilings ;  but  I  will  endeavor  that  my 
prayers  may  supply  the  defect  of  my  pen,  which  will  be  of  use  to  us 
both,  inasmuch  as  the  favor  and  blessing  of  God  is  better  than  all 
things  besides. 

"  I  know  tliou  lookest  for  troubles  here,  and  when  one  affliction 
is  over,  to  meet  with  another ;  but  remember  our  Saviour  tells  us, 
*  Be  of  good  comfort ;  I  have  overcome  the  world.'  Tlierefore,  my 
sweet  wife,  raise  up  thy  heart,  and  be  not  dismayed  at  the  crosses 
thou  meetest  with  in  family  affairs,  or  otherwise ;  but  still  fly  to  Him 
who  will  take  up  thy  burden  for  thee.  Go  thou  on  cheerfully,  in 
obedience  to  his  holy  will,  in  the  course  he  hath  set  thee.  Peace 
shall  come.  I  commend  thee  and  all  thine  to  the  gracious  protec- 
tion and  blessing  of  the  Lord. 

"Farewell,  my  good  wife.  I  kiss  and  love  thee  with  tlie  kindest 
affection,  and  rest 

«  Thy  faithful  husband, 

"John  Winthrop." 

"Most  loving  and  good  Husband,  —  I  have  received  your  let- 
ters. The  true  tokens  of  your  love  and  care  of  my  good,  now  in 
your  absence,  as  well  as  when  you  "'•^jrfiSP"^,  """l^fi  rrifi  think  *^"^ 
saying  fidscj  '  Out  of  sight,  out  of  mind.'  I  am  sure  my  heart  and 
thoughts  are  always  near  you,  to  *do  you  good,  and  not  evil,  all  the 
days  of  my  life.'  I  rejoice  in  the  expectation  of  our  happy  meeting  -^ 
for  thy  absence  has  been  very  long  in  my  conceit,  and  tliy  presence 
much  desired.  Thy  welcome  is  always  ready ;  make  haste  to  en- 
tertain it 

"And  80.I  bid  my  good  husband  farewell,  and  commit  him  to  the 
Lord. 

"  Your  loving  and  obedient  wife, 

"Margaret  Winthrop." 


•jiaoa  amn 


00 


-sinoTig    i§i 

—  "^  3;  :£  QO  J>- 

•uosjgjjaf    S?25S 

—  ~~~    ~       a:  o  t^  <r<  to 

•«!1"P""A     g"Sg5 

— — —  ;  ci  ou  2;  t- !:-  (N 

^  "~~~~  f-t  Q  C5  10  r- <  -^  00 

-BngmnioQ    gggggjC'S 

•UOJiluiiJJ     ggSgiggj^Si^ 

r*  h-  01  ■ej'  K^  10  -^  If;  r-  X  I— < 

_________-_^ ^      *      iN  c*:i  >n  r*  eg  ^  t^  o  di  CO  to 

""i-^  cocooiO^^f-TrcocJo 

'  Oj       c?e^GvtrrcCiO>OCOtOI^-^C0 

CQOoooiOos^pr^ioooiOi-t 

^  a      TjT^I-^OcgQOt^Q&0;QOO>tfao5 

*a|iIA9j!n9I|lTAr       OClCOtOCXJ005iOt^<-iOmi^»ft 
•  iiri-ic-Qiiwrfr^       M'— 'tOtOOlOCOiO^-'^-i'-HOS'— 'to^ 

uo^sa(iTiqy     cri'-<ior--r-oiot^t^coooooio-^ 
'BiqiuiiIOfi     i-Hcocidoc^QOiOTt-ooooooij^OT 

UolQI^W     "-"u^oor^ooTfiocor^ooGoxiioi^cO" 

^    ■    *    q     f?'CTcooor^mCTs»oioici(or^o:>oor^oiCD 

puuui((Jiji     rHCO*<fw^maooocDiOTr<x)r-OiaDcDoc>' 

•kininkTiHCV^A        CJCOO'^'-fOiOCOO'— fmOll-OOGOiOCJtDOi 
AiOiONIHBV_^Y\       »-<CaiCiOtD<:£=OOOCJi^iOC0  40r-aiQOir5  000 

^juuiii|»tl  t-icoirii?sSj>.QOoc^t-iLO'<?'coaooooio— ^C^ 

'siioUijuuv    ""^«RSt  ' 

•jaAon     £'•00'— "COO--icw^t^i--Tj-^CT(i5<— i'X)aiait^rt*oo'-H 

4t«AUQ  .-iCTrrtOCDI^t^OSi-HMOOCOiO^SOOOOiCO^O 

•piiiilranpMii  jr     ^^OTC:l^*3lqC'Jcooo^-C5CTlf^cc^occ^•^•^o>o^^ooCQ 

I  goOiO»f7i02;^c;'»j'CJ<Maou-5rt:oTfojooiaO"^cow«o" 

<i4ii4Aijji,^         '-f'-i      •-tc5cotc«5r--r*oi^coh-if5c^40i^oooiO'-HO 

cpocoaoQO^saoct^oaooQ'^-^cxooif^aof^  r^l^  —  Tt-'rT 
•iininaj  t  c^c^oiO(^J«:>ooiO'Oi— iOCoorotooociOoc^ccoccMeH 
uuiudjj^     „      «-iT-.r^-^c^Tr<ot-oOQOO?icoo6cDict>.c5^o«3c5o 

•Mjox  MOM     '^t!:'^-^rJcocjs^wtDtOQOTO-c(55«r5inibi^STMr~*cfiS 
^■'"A '"^N         >-i      '-'(Hr-*e4coioi^t^ooooo(NTroit^ir:t^oi'--oG^S 

I  -Hor--ou3cogo:cQp(N'X50QOQO-^^ai-?'CJh-aot^co  ct"'^'^'(5» 

^2?i^PS5i!?fcJj!GfeSr;i2^C"tSS=='2&^"oocr.aooicoc^«rH 

F^^JMoH       ^Hi— II— iCTt--«C^C0C*CQ^CC>t^C0050)'--tC*5»OOa05000OC^'-Hr--^C« 

""i»"U  '-^CTCTcoc^co■^«Tr*oI*clOloow■^<Ol-'dl^^o3'-Mc*oolCco 

o  c  lO  -»  oi  TO'if;  06  ^'■0^0"^c30TrQQ:o^C(^tOJ^»(7)OllCC£)l^>  ^j'"(-^~o'«r"S 

•^  if    s       j^    mS     -r  -  h  _"     „  c  =  -«§_„-—  •»<  S 

*  ••  •^.S       S**      *-*^a*     .Sojos       cso**—  SS       ajas*^*o_r'',/'      xS 


REIGNINQ    SOVEKEIGNS    OF    EUROPE. 

REIGNING  SOVEREIGNS  OF  EUROPE. 


141 


Date 

"§ 

e 

JVame. 

'fiUe. 

SlaU. 

Date  Iff  Birth. 

of 

a 

'^ 

Accession. 

54 

1 

Charles  XIV. 

King 

^iweden  and  Norway 

Jan.   -Jii,  17l>4 

Feb.     5,  1818 

Luth'n 

Nicholas  I. 

Emperor 

Russia 

July     C,  17* 

Dec.     1,  1825 

29 

Gr.Ch. 

Frederick  VI. 

King 

Denmark 

Jan.   28,  1766 

Mar.  13,  1808 

40 

Luth'n 

Victoria 

Uueen 

Great  Britain 

May  24,  1819 

June  20,  1837 

18 

Pr.  Ep. 

William  I. 

King 

Holland  or  NetU'lands 

Aug.  24,  177^ 

Mar.  16,  1815 

41 

Refor. 

Lieopold 

do. 

Belgium 

Dec.   16,  1700 

July  21,  1831 

40 

Luth'a 

Fred.  Wm.  III. 

do. 

Prussia 

Aug.    3,  1770 

Nov.  16,  1797 

27 

Evan. 

Frederick 

do. 

:>axony 

.May   \S,  1797 

June    6,  1836 

.% 

Cath. 

Ern.  Augustus 

do. 

Hanover 

June    5,  1771 

July  20,  1837 

tit. 

Prot. 

Paul  Frederick 

Gr.  Duke 

Mechlenburg-Schwer. 

Sept.  15,  1800 

Feb.     1,  1837 

27 

Luth'n 

George  V. 

do. 

.Meclilenburg-Strelitz 

Aug.  12,  1779 

Nov.    6,  1816 

37 

do. 

AU!>ll3tUS 

do. 

Oldenburg 

July   13,  1783 

May  21,  1629 

46 

do. 

William 

Duke 

Brunswick 

April  25,  180t: 

April  25,  1831 

25 

do. 

William 

do. 

Nassau 

June  14,  1792 

Jan.     9,  1816 

23 

Evan. 

Ch.  Frederick 

Gr.  Duke 

Saxe-Weimar-Eisen 

Feb.     2,  1783 

June  14,  1828 

45 

Luth'n 

"Ernest 

Duke 

Saxe-Coburg-Gotha 

Jan.     2,  1781 

Dec.     9,  1806 

22 

do. 

Bernard 

do. 

Saxe-Meiningen-Hild. 

Dec.  17,  1800 

Dec.  24,  1803 

3 

do. 

Joseph 

do. 

Saxe-Altenburg 

Aug.  27,  1789 

Sept.  29,  1834 

45 

do. 

Leopold 

do. 

Anhalt-Dessau 

Oct.     1,  1794 

Aug.    9,  1817 

22 

Evan. 

Alexis 

do. 

Anhalt-Bernburg 

June  12,  1767 

April    9,  179t) 

28 

do. 

Henry 

do. 

Anhalt-Cotben 

July   30,  1778 

Aug.  23,  1830 

52 

Refor. 

Fred.  Gunther 

Prince 

Schwartz'g  Rudolst't 

Nov.    6,  1793 

April  28,  1807 

13 

Luth'n 

Gunther  II. 

do. 

.Schwartz's  Sondei'n 

Sept.  24,  1801 

April  23,  1837 

36 

do. 

Henry  XIX. 

do. 

Keuss,  Elder  Line 

March  1,  1790 

Jan.   29, 1817 

26 

do. 

Henry  LXII. 

do. 

Reuss,  Younger  Lino 

May  31,  1785 

April  17,  1818 

32 

do. 

Ijeopold 

do. 

Lippe-Detmold 

Nov.    6,  1796 

April    4,  1802 

5 

Refor 

George  William 

do. 

Lippe-Schauenburg 

Dec.  20,  1784 

Feb.  13,  1787 

2 

do. 

George 

do. 

Waldeck 

Sept.  20,  1789 

Sept.    9,  1813 

24 

Evan. 

Philip  Augustus 

Landgr've 

Hesse- Horn  burg 

Mar.  11,  1779 

Jan.    19,  1839 

60 

Refor. 

Ch.  Leopold  Fr. 

Gr.  Duke 

Baden 

Aug.  29,  1790 

Mar.  30,  1830 

40 

Evan. 

William  II. 

Elector 

Hesse-Cassel 

July  28,  1777 

Feb.  27,  1821 

44 

Refor. 

Louis  II. 

Gr.  Duke 

Hesse-Darin.';  tadt 

Dec.  26,  1777 

April    6,  1830 

52 

Luth'n 

Charles 

Prince 

llohenzol'n  Sigmar'n 

Feb.  20,  1785 

Oct.   17,  1831 

23 

Cath. 

Frederick  Wm. 

do. 

Hohenzol'n  Hechin'n 

Sept.  16,  1801 

Sept.  12,  1838 

37 

do. 

John  Joseph 

do. 

Lichtenstein 

June  2t),  17r>0 

.Mar.  24,  1805 

44 

do. 

William 

King 

VVurtemberg 

Sept.  27,  1781 

Oct.   30,  1816 

:j5 

Luth'n 

Louis 

do. 

Bavaria 

Aug.  25,  1786 

Oct.    13,  1825 

39 

Cath. 

Ferdinand 

Emperor 

Austria 

April  19,  1793 

Mar.    2,  1835 

42 

do. 

Louis  Philip 

King 

France 

Oct.     6,  1773 

Aug.    9,  1830 

57 

do. 

Isabella  II. 

Q.ue«n 

S|iaio 

Oct.   10,  1830 

.Sept.  29,  1833 

3 

do. 

Maria  II. 

do. 

Portugal 

April    4,  1819 

.May     2,  1826 

7 

do. 

Charles  Albert 

King 

.Sardina 

Oct.     2,  179(5 

April  27,  18:11 

31 

do. 

Leopold  II. 

Gr.  Duke 

Tuscany 

Oct.     3,  1797 

June  18,  1824 

26 

do. 

Maria  Louisa 

Duchess 

Parma 

Dec.   12,  1791 

May  30,  1814 

22 

do. 

Francis  I V. 

Duke 

Modena  and  Massa 

Oct.     6,  1779 

June    8,  1815 

35 

do. 

Charles  Louis 

do. 

Lucca 

Dec.  23,  1799 

Mar.  13,  1824 

24 

do. 

Gregory  XVI. 

Pope 

States  of  tho  Church 

Sept.  18,  1765 

Feb.    2,  1831 

65 

do 

Ferdinand  II. 

King 

Two  Sicilies 

Jan.    12,  1815 

.\ov.    8,  1830 

21 

do. 

Otho, 

do 

Greece 

June    1,  1815 

Jan.   25,  1833 

18 

do. 

Abdul -Medj  id 

Sulun 

Turkey 

April  20,  1823 

July     1,  1839 

16 

Mahob 

KINGLY    FORTUNE. 

The  private  fortune  of  the  kinff  of  the  French  is  said  to  be  the  largest  in  the 
world.  While  be  was  duke  of  Orleans,  he  was  the  principal  nianaaer  of  all  his 
affairs,  sold  the  producR  of  his  land,  and  let  his  own  farms.  The  civil  list  allowed 
him  by  the  slate  is  so  large  Ihal  he  h«is  been  able  to  save  money  from  it.  without 
encroaching  upon  his  private  fortune.  That  now  amounts  to  about  a  hunared  mil- 
lions of  <loliars.  His  contribulioiis  to  public  works  jespecially  the  splendid  fitting 
up  of  Versailles  ns  a  national  m'Onumeut)  are  considerable.  His  wealth  is  con- 
I  tivitly  acciunulating,  and  his  fiff^Are  invested  in  different  countries. 


142 


THE    FAMILY    VISITOR. 


A   CHRONOLOGICAL   SKETCH   OF   GREAT   BRITAIN. 

As  a  large  portion  of  our  readers  are  descendants  from  the  people 
of  Great  Britain,  speak  the  same  language,  and  are  generally  more 
acquainted  with  British  laws,  institutions,  and  customs,  than  with 
those  of  any  other  nation,  we  think  that  a  chronological  account  of 
all  the  kings  and  queens  who  have  honored  or  disgraced  the  British 
throne  from  the  earliest  dates  to  the  present  time,  with  data  of  some 
of  the  most  important  events  which  occurred  in  the  several  reigns, 
may  prove  useful,  and  serve  for  the  purposes  of  reference. 

The  United  Kingdom  of  Great  Britain  and  Ireland  embraces  Eng- 
land, Wales,  and  Scotland,  on  the  island  of  Great  Britain  ;  and  the 
island  of  Ireland;  with  a  number  of  small  islands  on  their  coasts. 
These  countries  were  formerly  under  separate  governments ;  but 
are  now  united,  under  one  sovereign. 

London  is  the  capital  of  Great  Britain,  and  lies  in  north  latitude 
51°  31',  and  five  minutes  or  miles  west  longitude  from  Greenwich, 
or  76°  SCy  30"  east  longitude  from  the  city  of  Washington.  The 
population  of  London,  in  1831,  was  1,474,069.  The  British  domin- 
ions are  so  extensive  and  populous,  that  the  lovely  woman  who  now 
graces  the  British  throne  may  say  with  truth,  that  more  than  one 
hundred  and  fifty  millions  of  people  bow  to  her  sceptre,  and  that  the 
8im  never  sets  on  her  possessions. 

The  following  is  the  area  and  population  of  Great  Britain  and  its 
possessions : — 


Great  Britain  stnd  Ireland, 

Gibraltar,  Malta,  and  Gozo, . . . . 
British  India  and  Dependencies,. 

Ceylon  and  Mauritius, 

Cape  Colony, 

Sierra  Leone,  St.  Helena,  &.c.,. 

West  Indies  and  Guiana,. 

North  American  Provinces, 

Australian  Colonies, 


Population. 

24,306,719 

140,122 

123,300,000 

1,050,000 

150,000 

44,450 

903,040 

1,350,876 

129,600 

151,375,407 

iSj.MUe: 

118,209 

164 

1,180,000 

25,340 

200,000 

116,000 

We  shall,  at  this  time,  treat  only  of 

ENGLAND. 

The  island  of  Great  Britain  was  unknown  to  the  Romans  until 
the  time  of  Caius  Julius  Caesar,  who  was  born  100  years  before  the 
Christian  era.  Csesar  visited  the  island,  and  found  it  inhabited  by 
barbarians,  whom  he  defeated ;  but  it  was  not  until  the  time  of  Ti- 
berius Claudius,  who  was  born  nine  years  before  Christ,  that  Britain, 
or  Albion,  became  a  province  of  the  Roman  empire.  This  emperor 
died  A.  D.  54,  and  is  that  Tiberius  (Ceesar)  spoken  of  in  the  New 
Testament. 

This  island  was  long  before  known  to  the  Phoenicians  and  some 


A    CHRONOLOGICAL   SKETCH    OF    GREAT    BRITAIN.  143 

Other  nations,  who  visited  it  to  obtain  tin ;  on  which  account  it  was 
called  Tin  Island.  It  is  supposed  that  it  formerly  joined  the  conti- 
nent :  the  narrowness  of  the  English  Channel,  between  Dover  and/ 
Calais,  (24  miles,)  and  the  chalky  hills  on  each  side,  seem  to  warrant 
the  supposition. 

Britain  remained  a  Roman  province  until  A.  D.  426,  when  the 
Romans,  being  pressed  by  their  enemies  at  home,  withdrew  their 
forces,  and  left  these  islanders  to  their  fate. 

The  Britons  were  attacked  by  the  Picts  and  Scots,  and  being  un- 
skilled in  war,  sought  aid  from  their  Saxon  neighbors  on  the  conti- 
nent, in  the  year  449.  The  Saxons  came  ;  and,  after  expelling  the 
enemy,  under  their  leaders,  Hengist  and  Horsa,  they  recruited  their 
ranks  from  the  Angles,  an  ancient  German  nation,  and  made  them- 
selves masters  of  the  country.  The  Britons  defended  themselves 
against  their  treacherous  invadei-s  with  great  bravery,  particularly 
under  the  celebrated  King  Arthur,  but  were  compelled,  in  685,  to 
confine  themselves  to  Wales,  or  to  retire  to  Brittany,  in  France. 

The  Anglo-Saxons  divided  Britain  into  seven  states,  which  were 
governed  by  kings,  until  827,  when  Egbert,  king  of  Wessex,  sub- 
dued the  other  states,  and  became  sole  monarch,  under  the  title  of 
king  o£  England.    Egbert  died  in  838. 

The  Christian  religion  was  introduced  into  England  by  St.  Au- 
gustin,  with  40  monks,  sent  by  Pope  Gregory,  in  598. 

The  successors  of  Egbert  were  much  annoyed  by  the  Danes  or 
Normans,  who  landed  in  England  in  832,  and  conquered  a  part  of 
the  country  —  until  872,  when  Alfred  the  Great  arose,  roused 
tlie  courage  of  his  countrymen,  and  expelled  the  Danes  from  his 
kingdom.  This  great  and  good  man  was  born  in  849,  and  died  in  900. 
He  was  a  statesman,  warrior,  scholar,  and  Christian.  He  made  Lon- 
don the  capital  city,  and  founded  the  University  of  Oxford. 

The  Danes  again  attacked  England,  and,  in  1001,  conquered  it. 
Their  king,  Canute,  who  died  in  1036,  and  his  sons,  governed  it, 
until  they  were  finally  driven  from  England  in  1041,  when  Edward, 
the  last  of  the  Anglo-Saxon  kings,  ascended  the  throne.  He  married 
Editha,  daughter  of  Godwin,  earl  of  Kent ;  but  in  consequence  of 
his  hatred  to  his  father-in-law,  and  his  own  monkish  superstition, 
the  marriage  was  never  consummated. 

Edward  was  a  weak  prince,  and  exceedingly  indolent.  "  One  day, 
while  he  reposed  upon  a  couch,  a  page,  who  little  dreamed  that  the 
king  was  in  the  apartment,  filled  his  pockets  with  silver  from  an 
iron  chest  which  happened  to  be  open ;  but  not  satisfied  with  his 
bootj',  he  had  recourse  to  it  again,  when  the  king  said,  very  delil)- 
erately,  "  Boy,  you  had  better  be  satisfied  with  what  you  have  got, 
for  if  my  chamberlain  comes  in,  you  will  lose  the  whole,  and  be 
whipped  into  the  bargain." 

£dward  died  in  1065,  and  was  the  first  English  monarch  who 
touched  for  the  king's  evil.  From  his  ignorant  countrymen  he  ob- 
tained the  title  of  Confessor,  and  was  canonized  for  his  sanctity,  by 
Pope  Alexander  III.,  200  years  after  his  death. 


144  the  family  visitor, 

William  the  Conqueror,  (1066 — 1087,) 

duke  of  Normandy,  a  natural  son  of  Robert,  duke  of  Normandy,  and 
cousin  of  Edward  the  Confessor.  Having  some  claim  to  the  English 
throne,  William  landed  in  England  with  60,000  men,  fought  the 
battle  of  Hastijigs,  October  14,  1066,  in  which  his  rival  to  the  crown, 
Harold,  was  slain,  and  made  himself  master  of  the  whole  country. 
This  period  is  termed  the  conquest.  William  owing  allegiance  to 
France,  as  duke  of  Normandy,  and  France  becoming  jealous  of  his 
power,  were  the  causes  of  the  first  on  the  long  catalogue  of  those 
bloody  wars,  which  have  existed  between  the  two  nations.  From 
this  period  to  1815,  England  and  France  have  been  at  war  24  times  ; 
the  aggregate  duration  of  which  is  267  years !  William  favored  his 
own  countrymen,  and  built  the  Tower  of  London  for  their  protection, 
in  1080.  In  his  reign  severity  and  wisdom  were  both  conspicuous. 
He  married  Matilda,  daughter  of  the  earl  of  Flandei-s,  by  whom  he 
had  four  sons  and  six  daughtei's.  William  was  tall,  well  built,  and 
so  gi-eat  was  his  strength,  that  hardly  a  man  in  England  could  bend 
his  bow. 

William  II.,  (1087—1100,) 

the  second  son  of  William  the  Conqueror,  suniamed  Rufus  from  his 
red  hair.  He  was  born  in  1060.  This  prince  was  rapacious,  lavish, 
and  dissolute ;  void  of  learning,  a  scoffer  at  religion,  and  a  foe  to 
wedlock.  He  was  accidentally  wounded  by  an  arrow,  and  died  un- 
lamented.  William  built  Westminster  Hall,  and,  after  it  was  finished, 
said  it  was  not  large  enough  for  a  king's  bed-chamber.  This  hall  is 
270  feet  in  length,  74  in  breadth,  and  90  feet  in  height.  During 
this  reign,  in  the  year  1096,  the  first  crusade  was  undertaken  by  the 
influence  of  Peter  the  Hermit  on  Pope  Urban  IL,  to  recover  the 
Holy  Land,  or  Palestine,  from  Mahometan  and  Saraceen  unbelievers. 
"The  people  of  Europe  were  grieved  that  the  Holy  Land,  where  the 
Saviour  lived,  and  taught,  and  suffered  for  mankind,  should  be  pol- 
luted by  infidels,  or  remam  in  their  possession,  and  thus  prevent 
the  pilgrimages  then  desired  to  be  made  to  the  city  of  Jerusalem 
and  the  sepulchre  of  the  divine  Redeemer."  In  these  crusades,  all 
classes  of  Christians,  of  all  nations,  from  the  most  powerful  prince 
to  the  humblest  subject,  took  an  interest.  The  joys  of  paradise  were 
promised  to  all  who  fell  in  this  holy  cause.  "They  thought  to  atone 
tor  tiieir  sins  by  visiting  the  place  where  the  Saviour  had  suffered, 
ratlicr  than  by  imitating  his  example  and  copying  his  virtues,  and 
to  display  their  zeal  in  his  cause,  by  destroying  rather  than  saving 
their  fellow-men."  These  crusades,  or  holy  wars,  proved  unsuc- 
cessful by  the  issue  of  that  commenced  by  St.  Lewis,  king  of  France, 
in  1270.  ^ 

Although  vast  sums  and  many  lives  were  sacrificed  in  these  chrV- 
alric  enterprises,  they  proved  beneficial  to  the  Christian  nations, 
inasmuch  as  thereby  commerce  with  the  East  was  introduced,  and  a 
knowledge  of  many  arts  and  sciences  acquired,  till  then  unknown 
in  Europe. 


A    CHRONOLOGICAL    SKETCH    OF    GREAT    BUITAIN.  145 

Henry  I.,  (1100—1135,) 

the  youngest  son  of  William  the  Conqueror,  was  bom  1068.  He 
married  Matilda,  daughter  of  Malcolm  111.,  king  of  Scotland.  His 
second  wife  was  Addaide,  daughter  of  the  eai'l  of  Lovain,  He  left  a 
daughter,  Matilda,  who  married  Geoffrey,  surnamed  Plantagenet, 
count  of  Anjou.  Henry  was  affable  to  his  friends,  and  implacable  to 
his  enemies  ;  cool,  courageous,  ambitions,  and  avaricious.  He  ac- 
quiretf  the  surname  of  Beauderc  by  his  learning,  and  died  the  richest 
prince  in  Europe.  The  order  of  Knights  Templars  was  instituted  la 
1118,  to  defend  the  sepulchre  at  Jerusalem,  and  to  protect  Christian 
strangere. 

Stephen,  (1135—1154,) 

count  of  Blois,  son  of  Jldela,  daughter  of  William  the  Conqueror, 
was  born  in  1104.  He  married  Matilda,  daughter  of  the  earl  of 
Boulogne.  Their  only  child,  Eustace,  died  in  1153.  Stephen  was 
a  brave  and  sensible  man,  and  made  a  spirited  resistance  against 
the  Church  of  Rome.  He  acquired  the  crown  from  the  daughter  of 
Henry  L  by  dishonorable  means,  and  lived  in  a  state  of  continued 
tumult  and  revolution.  Stephen  was  the  last  prince  of  the  Norman 
family. 

Henry  H.,  (1154—1189,) 

son  of  Matilda,  the  countess  of  Anjou,  daughter  of  Henry  I.  He  was 
born  in  11.31,  and  surnamed  Plantagenet,  and  was  the  first  of  that 
family  in  England.  He  possessed,  by  uiheritance,  and  by  his  mar- 
riage >vith  Eleanora,  heiress  of  the  house  of  Poictiers,  a  large  portion 
of  France.  He  was  distinguished  for  his  warlike  enterprises,  and 
became  one  of  the  most  powerful  kings  of  England.  He  conquered 
Ireland  in  1172,  which  has  been  subject  to  the  British  crown  to  this 
day.  He  had  five  sons  and  two  daughters.  King  Henry's  daughter 
Matilda  marrieil  Henrj',  duke  of  Saxony ;  from  which  marriage  de- 
scended the  present  queen  of  England.  Henry  was  a  hantlsome 
man,  fond  of  pleasure,  and  remarkably  charitable  to  the  poor. 
Glass  windows  were  first  used  in  England  in  1180. 

Richard  I.  (1189—1199) 

was  the  son  of  Henry  11.,  and  born  in  1156.  He  was  surnamed 
Caur  de  Lion,  or  the  Lion-hearted,  on  account  of  tlie  great  courage 
be  displayed  in  a  crusade  against  the  Saracens,  in  which  he  de- 
feated Saladin's  army  of  300,000  combatants,  in  1191.  He  married 
the  princess  Berengudl<fof  Navarre,  but  left  no  issue.  He  died  by 
the  wound  of  an  arrow  from  an  archer,  whose  father  and  brother 
Richard  had  slain.  Richard  had  many  vices ;  but  he  was  so  be- 
loved by  his  subjects,  that  they  melted  the  church  plate  to  raise 
150,000  marks,  (£100,000)  to  redeem  him  from  captivity,  when  im- 
prisoned by  the  duke  Of  Austria,  on  his  way  from  the'Holy  Land. 
This  was  a  large  sum  in  those  days,  when  the  price  of  labor  did  not 
exceed  twopence  a  day. 
13 


146  THE    FAMILY    VISITOR, 

f 

John  (1199—1216) 

was  the  son  of  Henry  IL,  and  born  in  1166.  This  prince  was  weak, 
passionate,  and  tyrannical ;  hated  at  home,  and  despised  abroad. 
He  died  amidst  civil  broils.  John  married  Isabella  of  Angouleme, 
alter  being  divorced  from  the  heiress  of  Gloucester.  By  Isabella 
he  had  two  sons  and  three  daughters.  Magna  Charta  (or  the  Great 
Charter  of  Liberties)  was  signed  by  the  king  and  barons,  and  courts 
of  common  pleas  established,  in  1215.  Surnames  were  first  used  in 
England  in  1200. 

Henuy  III.,  (1216—1272,) 

son  of  King  John,  was  born  in  1207.  He  was  sumamed  fFinchestef, 
and  married  Eleanor  of  Provence,  by  whom  he  had  nine  children. 
Henry  was  a  man  of  mean  talents,  capricious  and  cowardly ;  al- 
ways under  foreign  influence,  particulai-ly  that  of  the  Roman  See. 
Cam!)  idg  College  was  founded  in  the  year  1229.  The  first  house 
of  commons  was  convened  in  1265.  All  the  buildings  in  England 
at  this  period  were  thatched  with  straw.     Chimneys  were  unknown. 

Edward  I.,  (1272—1307,) 

•Bon  of  Henry  III.,  was  born  in  1239.  Tliis  prince  conquered  Wales 
in  1283,  and  made  his  eldest  son,  Edivard,  the  first  prince  of  that 
principality.  lie  made  several  attempts  to  subdue  Scotland.  His 
execution  of  the  brave  and  noble  Wallace,  in  1303,  will  ever  remain 
a  blot  on  his  character.  Edward  was  distinguished  for  his  bravery 
and  wisdom,  and  made  a  good  king  to  England.  "  His  enterprises 
were  directed  to  permanent  advantages,  rather  than  to  mere  per- 
sonal ambition  and  temporary  splendor."  During  his  reign,  the  laws 
and  administration  of  justice  were  so  greatly  improved  and  perfected, 
that  he  has  been  called  the  English  Justinian.  At  his  death  he  or- 
dered Ills  heart  to  be  sent  to  the  Holy  Land,  and  bequeathed 
£32,000  for  the  maintenance  of  the  holy  sepulchre.  Edward  was  a 
prince  of  comely  features  and  fine  black  eyes;  but  in  consequence 
of  the  extraordinmy  length  of  his  legs,  he  was  called  Longshanks. 
He  married  Eleanor  of  Carlisle,  by  whom  he  left  a  son  and  two 
daughters.  Ilis  second  wife  was  Margaret,  sister  of  Philip  of  France, 
by  whom  he  left  two  sons. 

A  regular  succession  of  parliaments  commenced  in  1294,  without 
whose  consent  no  taxes  were  to  be  laid  on  the  people.  The  price 
of  a  well- written  Bible  was  £27.  Wine,  and  tallow  candles,  were 
great  luxuries. 

Edward  II.,  (1307— *827,) 

son  of  Edward  I.  He  was  the  first  prince  of  Wales,  and  born  in 
1284.  This  was  a  sensible  and  good-natured  prince,  but  indolent 
and  fond  of  pleasure.  He  resigned  the  crown  January  20,  1327,  by 
the  conspiracy  of  his  wife,  Isabella  of  France,  daughter  of  Philip 
the  Fair,  who  had  dishonored  him.  He  was  basely  murdered  in 
prison,  Sept.  21,  the  same  year.  He  had  two  sons  and  two  daugh- 
ters. In  this  reign  there  was  a,  terrible  earthquake,  and  a  famine 
that  lasted  three  years.     The  battle  of  Bannockburn  was  fought, 


A    CHRONOlOGICAI.    SKETCH    OP    GREAT    BRITAIN.  147 

1314,  in  whicli  Edward  was  defeated,  and  Bruce  established  on  the 
throne  of  Scotland. 

Edward  III.  (1327—1377.) 

This  prince  was  l>om  in  1313,  and  took  the  crown,  by  the  consent 
of  his  fatlier,  Edward  11.  He  imprisoned  his  mother  for  causing  tlie 
death  of  his  father;  and  executed  ftlortimer,  liis  mother's  paramour, 
on  the  gallows.  The  king  of  France  dying  without  male  issue,  Ed- 
ward demanded  tlie  crown  of  France  by  virtue  of  his  motljer,  sister 
of  King  Charles.  Edward  obtained  large  possessions  in  France, 
and  acquired  the  title  of  king  of  France,  which  his  successors  re- 
tained until  1801.  Although  the  title  remained,  most  of  his  posses- 
sions in  France  were  lost  before  his  death.  Edward  was  a  brave 
and  wise  prince,  of  a  commanding  person,  and  the  idol  of  the  sol- 
diery. He  married  PhUippa  of  Hainault,  countess  of  March,  by 
whom  he  had  seven  sons  and  five  daughters.  Edtoard,  Prince  of 
fVcdes,  the  eldest  son  of  Edward  111.,  was  greatly  renowned  in  war. 
This  prince  was  bom  in  1330,  and  died  in  137G.  At  the  age  of  16, 
at  the  battle  of  Crecy,  in  1346,  at  which  cannon  were  first  used  by 
the  English,  he  received  the  order  of  knighthood,  which  "showed 
that  he  merited  his  spurs."  He  fought  and  won  the  celebrated  Ijat- 
tle  of  Poictiers,  in  1356,  in  which  the  king  of  France  was  taken 
prisoner.  Edward  married  Joanna,  daughter  of  Edmund,  earl  of 
Kent,  and  left  one  son.  He  wore  a  black  armor,  and  was  called 
the  Black  Prince.  In  this  reign  the  art  of  weaving  was  introduced 
into  England,  and  coals  were  first  Ijrought  to  London.  The  order 
of  the  Garter  was  instituted  in  1349.  John  VVickliflTe  began  to  call 
in  question  the  doctrines  of  the  Roman  Church  in  13<j2. 

"  The  fashionable  ladies,  in  this  reign,  wore  party-colored  tunics, 
one  half  being  of  one  color,  the  other  half  of  another.  Tlieir  tippets 
were  very  short ;  their  caps  remai-kably  small,  and  wrapped  about 
their  heads  with  cords.  Their  girdles  and  pouches  were  orna- 
mented with  gold  and  silver,  and  iTiey  carried  short  swords  by  their 
sides.  Their  iiead-dressos  were  enormously  high,  rising  three  feet 
alx>ve  the  head,  in  the  shape  of  sugar-loaves,  with  streamei-s  of  silk 
flowing  from  the  top  of  them  to  the  ground.  The  gentlemen  wore 
long  (jointed  shoes,  fastened  to  their  knees  by  gold  or  silv«'r  chains ; 
hose  ot  one  color  on  one  leg,  and  of  another  color  on  tlie  other ; 
short  breeches,  which  did  not  reach  to  the  middle  of  their  thighs; 
coats  one  half  white,  and  the  other  half  black  or  blue;  long  l)eards  ; 
a  hood  buttoned  under  their  chins,  embroidered  with  grotesque 
figures  of  men  and  animals  ;  and  sometimes  ornamented  with  gohi, 
silver,  and  precious  stbnes." 

Richard  II.,  (1377— 1399,) 

son  of  the  Black  Prince,  and  grandson  of  Edward  III.  He  was 
born  in  Ki66.  This  young  king  was  fond  of  low  company,  iltfid  wjis 
governed,  in  a  great  degree,  by  his  dissolute  associate  s.  His  reign 
was  full  of  commotion.  He  married  Anne,  daughter  of  the  fempe- 
ror  Charles  IV.,  and  after^vards  Isahelln,  daughter  of  Charls  VI. 
of  France.  He  left  no  issue.  Richard  was  deposed  Sept.  30,  1399 
and  died  in  prison,  either  by  starvation  or  poison. 


148  THE    FAMILY    VISITOR. 

Henry  IV.,  (1399—1413,) 

surnamed  Bolingbroke,  ascended  the  throne  upon  the  deposition  of 
Ricliurd  II.  He  was  the  son  of  John  of  Gaunt,  duke  of  Lancas- 
ter, third  son  of  Edward  HI.,  and  was  born  in  1367.  Henry  was 
the  first  king  of  the  house  of  Lancaster.  He  was  of  middle  stat- 
ure, well  proportioned,  and  perfect  in  all  the  exercises  of  arms 
and  chivalry.  He  married  Mary  de  Bohjon,  by  whom  lie  had  four 
sons  and  two  daughters.  His  second  wife  was  Joan  of  Navarre. 
In  1401,  by  the  intrigues  of  the  clergy,  an  act  passed  for  burning 
heretics,  or  the  followers  of  Wickliffe.  Henry  was  cruel  from  poli- 
cy, and  superstitious  without  virtue.  Greoffrey,  Chaucer,  and  John 
Gower,  rendered  themselves  famous  by  their  writings.  The  order 
of  the  Bath  was  instituted  at  Hemy's  coronation. 

Henry  V.,  (1413—1422,) 

son  of  Henry  IV.,  was  born  1388.  This  kiiig  was  of  a  gallant  spirit, 
but  no  statesman.  He  fixed  a  stain  on  his  character  by  his  severe 
execution  of  tlie  laws  against  the  JVickliffeites,  or  Lollards.  He 
landed  in  France,  in  1415,  and  fought  the  famous  battle  of  Agin- 
court  the  following  year.  Henry  married  Catharine  of  France, 
carried  his  conquests  to  Paris,  and  was  declared  successor  to  the 
crown  of  France.  These  conquests  proved  disastrous  to  both  na- 
tions. He  left  one  son.  Hemy  was  tall  and  graceful,  chaste,  mod- 
est, and  devout 

Henry  VI.,  (1422—1461,) 

son  of  Henry  V.  He  was  born  in  England  in  1421,  and  crowned 
at  Paris,  in  1430.  He  married  the  celebrated  Margaret  of  Anjou, 
in  1445,  and  had  one  son.  Henry  was  honest  and  pious,  but  too 
weak  to  act  for  himself.  All  his  possessions  in  France,  except  Ca- 
lais, were  given  up.  The  rival  house  of  York  took  advantage  of 
Henry's  imbecility,  and  after  several  severe  battles,  confined  him  t0 
the  Tower,  where  it  is  supposed  he  was  murdered  by  Richard,  duke 
of  Gloucester.  Eton  College  was  founded  in  1440,  and  King's 
College,  at  Cambridge,  was  built  in  1441. 

Edward  IV.,  (1461—1483,) 

duke  of  York,  was  bom  in  1441.  Edward's  father,  Richard  duke 
of  York,  was  grandson  of  Edward,  earl  of  Cambridge,  duke  of 
York,  and  fourth  son  of. Edward  III.  The  Lancastrian  branch 
descended  from  John  of  Gaunt,  the  third  son  of  Edward  III.  The 
York  line  having  intermamed  witli  the  female  descendants  of  Li- 
onel, duke  of  Clarence,  the  second  son  of  Edward  IIL,  gave  the  house 
of  York  the  best  right  to  the  crown.  Margaret,  widow  of  Henry  VI., 
aided  by  France,  contested  the  title  with  Edward ;  but  it  was  decided 
in  bis  favor  by  the  battle  of  Hexliam,  1464,  and  agaui  by  the  battle 
of  Bamet,  in  1471.  Edwaid  married  Elizabeth  WoodvUle,  widow  of 
Sir  John  Grey,  a  Lancastrian,  and  left  two  sous  and  five  daugh- 
ters. Edward  was  a  brave  man,  of  some  talents  and  fine  person,  but 
deficient  in  judgment,  and  exceedingly  cruel.   He  had  many  mistress- 


« 


A    CHRONOLOGICAL   SKETCH    OF    GREAT    BRITAIN.  149 

es,  of  which  number  was  the  celebrated  Jane  Shore.  The  art  of 
printing  was  brought  to  England  by  Caxton,  in  1471.  Tliis  art 
was  known  in  China  as  early  as  950. 

Edward  V.,  (1483,) 

eldest  son  of  Edward  IV.,  prince  of  Wales,  aged  13,  was  murder- 
ed, with  his  younger  brother,  in  the  Tower  of  London,  by  his  uncle 
the  duke  of  Gloucester.     lie  reigned  two  months  and  twelve  days. 

Richard  III.,  (1483—1485,) 

duke  of  Gloucester,  son  of  Richard,  duke  of  York,  bom  in  1450. 
On  the  death  of  his  brother,  Edward  IV.,  Richard  was  appoint- 
ed protector  of  the  kingdom  during  the  minority  of  Edward 
V.  He  obtained  the  crown  by  dissimulation  and  treachery,  fol- 
lowed by  a  series  of  most  bloody  murders.  He  murdered  Ed- 
ward, prince  of  Wales,  son  of  Henry  VI.,  and  married  his 
widow,  Anne.  He  murdered  Edward  V.,  and  his  brother,  the  duke 
of  York.  He  tlien  murdered  his  wife,  and  courted  Elizabeth, 
daughter  of  his  brother,  Edward  IV.,  but  without  success.  Richard 
was  a  brave  man,  but  destitute  of  every  personal  or  mental 
grace.  He  died  at  the  battle  of  Bosworth,  August  22,  1485,  cov- 
ered with  infamy.  Richard  left  no  child,  and  was  the  last  of  the 
Plantagenets. 

Henry  VII.,  (1485—1509,) 

son  of  Edmoud  earl  of  Richmond,  son  of  Owen  Tudor  and  Catha- 
rine of  France,  widow  of  Henry  V.  He  was  born  in  1457.  By  the 
marriage  of  Henry  with  Elizabeth  of  the  house  of  York,  daughter 
of  Edward  IV.,  the  houses  of  York  and  Lancaster  were  united 
under  the  first  monarch  of  the  house  of  Tudor.  Tlie  sti-uggles  be- 
tween those  rival  fanulies  lasted  many  years,  in  which  much  blood 
was  spilt.  They  were  called  the  wars  of  the  roses,  —  each  party 
being  designated  by  white  or  red  roses.  Henry  was  pacific  in  his 
negotiations  with  foreign  nations,  and  gained  dieir  respect.  He 
was  attached  to  the  Lancastrian  party,  proved  an  ungracious  hus- 
band, and  frequently  used  religion  as  a  cloak  for  oppression.  He 
left  one  son,  and  a  daughter,  Margaret,  who  married  James  IV,, 
king  of  Scotland.  About  the  commencement  of  this  reign,  a  disease 
called  the  "  sweating  sickness  "  carried  off"  a  great  number  of  peo- 
ple. In  the  year  1500,  30,000  persons  died  of  the  plague  in  Lon- 
don. North  America  was  discovered  by  Cabot,  in  1499,  —  7  years 
after  the  discovery  of  America  by  Columbus*.  The  culture  of  vege- 
tables was  first  commenced  in  England,  in  1509 ;  —  previously  they 
were  imported  from  the  Netherlands. 

Henry  VIII.,  (1509—1547,) 
Bon  of  Henry  VIL,  born  in  1491.  The  chief  characteristic  of  this 
prince  was  love  of  power.  "  Tliis  peission,  which  was  at  first  com- 
patible with  generosity  and  feeling,  at  length  produced  an  excess 
of  pride,  impatience,  and  intolerance,  which  extinguished  the  senti- 
ments of  humanitv,  and  rendered  him  violent  and  sanguinary  in  the 

■     13* 


JoO  THE    FAMILY    VISITOR. 

extreme."  Henry's  reigii  is  distinguished  for  the  inti'oduction  of  the 
Protestant  religion,  and  for  the  suppression  of  Catholic  religious 
houses.  These  transactions  were  rather  permitted  by  Henry,  tlian 
approved  by  him.  Before  his  quarrel  with  the  pope,  about  a  divorce 
from  his  wife,  he  wrote  a  hook  against  the  tenets  of  Luther,  the 
father  of  the  reformation  ;  for  which  Leo  X.,  in  1520,  gave  him  the 
title  of  Defender  of  the.  Faith,  which  his  successors,  though  Protest- 
ants, have  ever  retained.  Heniy  possessed  talents  and  a  handsome 
person.  He  married  CcUharine  of  Arx-agon,  widow  of  his  brother 
Arthur,  in  1509,  by  whom  he  had  one  daughter.  Displeased  with  his 
amiable  wife,  and  in  love  with  her  lady  of  honor,  Henry  applied  to 
the  pope  for  a  divorce,  which  being  refused,  he  threw  oft"  all  al- 
legiance to  the  Roman  See,  declared  himself  head  of  the  church, 
and  married  ^nne  Boleyn,  daughter  of  Sir  Thomas  Boleyn,  in  1532. 
Excited  by  jealousy  towards  Anne,  and  love  for  another  lady,  Henry 
caused  Anne  to  be  beheaded  in  1536.  Anne  left  one  child,  the  cel- 
ebrated Elizabeth.  The  day  after  the  execution  of  Anne,  Henry 
married  his  third  wife,  Jane  Seymour,  daughter  of  Sir  John  Sey- 
mour. Jane  died  in  giving  birth  to  Prince  Edward,  in  1537.  In 
1540,  Henry  married  his  fourth  wife,  Jlnne  of  Cleves,  sister  of  the  duke 
of  Cleves.  This  lady  he  called  a  Flanders  mare,  and  after  living 
with  her  about  six  months,  he  sent  her  back  to  her  own  country. 
Catharine  Howard,  niece  of  the  duke  of  Norfolk,  was  Henry's  fifth 
wife.  She  proved  incontinent,  and  was  beheaded  in  1542.  Henry 
was  married  to  his  sixth  and  last  wife,  Catharine  Pan;  widow  of 
Lord  Latimer,  in  1543.  This  lady  possessed  great  merit,  and  was  a 
firm  friend  to  tlie  reformation.  Anne  Boleyn  and  Catharine  Howard 
were  women  of  extraordinary  beauty. 

We  mention  the  following  historical  fact  concerning  the  decapi- 
tation of  the  unfortunate  Anne,  to  show  the  irresistible  power  of 
woman's  eye : — 

"  Anne  Boleyn,  being  on  the  scaffold,  would  not  consent  to  have 
her  eyes  covered  with  a  bandage,  saying,  that  she  had  no  fear  of 
death.  All  that  the  divine  who  assisted  at  her  execution  could  ob- 
tain from  her  was,  tliat  she  would  shut  her  eyes.  But,  as  she 
was  opening  them  at  evei-y  moment,  the  executioner,  a  Frenchman, 
who  is  said  to  have  had  uncommon  skill  in  his  profession,  could  not 
bear  their  tender  and  mild  glances :  fearful  of  missing  his  aim,  he 
was  obliged  to  invent  an  expedient  to  behead  the  queen.  He  drew 
off  his  shoes,  and  approached  her  silently :  while  he  was  at  her  lefl 
liand,  another  person  advanced  at  her  right,  who  made  a  great  noise 
in  walkuig;  so  that,  this  circumstaijce  drawing  the  attention  of  Anne, 
she  turned  her  face  from  the  exeCmioner,  wlio  was  enabled  by  this 
artifice  to  strike  the  fatal  blow,  without  being  disarmed  by  the  spirit 
of  affecting  resignation  which  shone  in  the  eyes  of  the  lovely  Anne." 

The  noted  battle  o^  Flodden  was  fought  in  1513,  in  which  Hem-)  's 
troops  gained  a  decided  victory  over  the  Scots,  and  in  which  King 
James  IV.  of  Scotland  fell.  The  number  of  Catholic  monasteries 
suppressed  in  this  reign,  was  G43 ;  together  with  90  colleges,  2374 
chantries,  3  chapels,  and  110  hospitals.  The  frauds  imposed  on  the 
deluded  people  m  regard  to  i-elics  and  images,  and  tlie  scenes  of 


A    CHRONOLOGICAL   SKETCH    OP    GREAT    BRITAIN.  151 

debauchery  and  impiety  disclosed,  were  so  great,  as  almost  to  shock 
the  Defender  of  the  Faith  himseUI  Thomas  Wolsey,  prime  minis- 
ter to  Henry,  was  made  archbishop  of  York,  ia  1514,  and  soon  after 
was  created  a  cardinal  by  Leo  X.  Wolsey  was  arrested  for  high 
treason  in  1530,  and  died  on  his  way  to  prison.  Ireland  was  erect- 
ed into  a  kingdom  in  1542,  from  which  time  English  kings  were 
styled  kings  of  Ireland.  "  In  this  reign  the  reading  of  the  Bible 
was  prohibited,  except  by  those  who  occupied  high  offices  in  the 
state.  A  noble  lady  or  gentlewoman  might  read  it  in  their  garden 
or  orchard,  or  other  retired  places;  but  men  and  women  in  the 
lower  rankii  were  positively  forbidden  to  read  it,  or  have  it  read 
to  them."     Ladies  began  to  use  pins  instead  of  skewers,  in  1543. 

Edward  VI.,  (1547—1553,) 

son  of  Heniy  VIIL,  by  Jane  Seymour,  was  bom  in  1538.  This 
prince  died  so  young,  that  his  administration  may  be  deemed  that 
of  his  counsellors,  Somerset,  the  protector;  and  afterwards  Dudley, 
duke  of  Northumberland.  Edward  received  instruction  from  tlie 
celebrated  John  Cheke,  who  died  in  1557,  aged  43.  This  prince  was 
very  learned  for  one  of  his  years,  and  much  admired  for  his  beauty : 
he  was  of  a  mild  temper,  and  greatly  attached  to  the  i-eformation. 
He  kept  a  journal  of  all  the  transactions  of  liis  reign,  and  which  is 
preserved  in  the  British  Museum. 

Mary,  (1553—1558,) 

daughter  of  Henry  VUI.,  by  Catharine  of  Arragon ;  born  1515,  and 
died  1558,  without  issue,  Mary,  from  motives  of  policy,  married 
Philip  n.  of  Spain,  in  1554.  She  involved  the  nation  in  war,  and 
lost  Cahus,  the  last  English  possession  in  France.  She  restored  the 
authority  of  the  pope  in  all  its  rigor.  During  the  short  reign  of  this 
fiendish  woman,  she  caused  more  than  300  persons  to  be  beheaded, 
burnt,  or  otherwise  murdered,  for  lack  of  faith  in  Catholic  dog- 
mas ;  among  that  number  was  her  unfortunate  cousin,  the  amiable 
and  accomplished  Lady  Jane  Grey.  Mary,  deserted  by  her  hus- 
band, and  detested  by  the  people,  died  as  she  had  lived,  <*imbon- 
ored  and  unsung," 

Elizabeth,  (1558—1603,) 

daughter  of  Henry  VHI,  by  Anne  Boleyn.  She  was  bom  in  1533, 
and  was  the  last  of  the  line  of  the  house  of  Tudor.  The  nation 
was  filled  with  joy  when  "  good  Queen  Bess,"  as  she  was  afterwards 
called,  came  to  the  throne.  Elizabeth  was  one  of  the  most  cele- 
brated sovereigns  in  Europe.  She  appears  to  have  had  that  wis- 
dom and  those  virtues  so  necessary  in  a  sovereign  to  render  a  nation 
great  and  happy.  "  Under  her  auspices,"  says  a  good  writer,  "  tlie 
Protestant  religion,  as  opposed  to  Popery,  was  firmly  established. 
Factions  were  restrained,  government  strengthened,  the  vast  powe» 
of  Spain  nobly  opposed,  oppressed  neighbors  suj)j)orted,  a  r.avy 
created,  commerce  and  manufactures  rendered  flourisliiug,  and  the 
national  cimracter  aggrandized."  One  of  the  most  impoitaut  events 
in  this  reign  was  tlie  destruction  of  the  Int*incible  Jlrmada.,  fitted  out 


# 


153  THE    FAMILY    VISITOR, 

in  1588,  by  the  king  of  Spain,  and  encouraged  by  Pope  Sixtus  V.,  for 
the  conquest  of  England.  The  Armada  consisted  of  160  ships  of 
war,  well  manned  and  provisioned.  Elizabeth  had  140  vessels,  of 
variou-s  sizes,  and  large  armies  along  the  sea-coast,  with  34,000  foot, 
and  2,000  horse,  to  guard  her  person.  Her  speech  to  her  troops  on 
that  occasion  would  have  honored  a  Marlborough  or  a  Wellington. 
The  Armada  airived  in  the  British  channel ;  when,  by  capture,  the 
confusion  caused  by  the  English  fire-ships,  and  the  subsequent  vio-* 
lent  gale,  this  potent  armament  was  so  dreadfully  shattered,  that  but 
few  of  the  ships  returned  to  Spain. 

Many  arguments  may  be  advanced  in  palliation  of  Elizabeth's 
conduct  in  regard  to  Mary,  queen  of  Scotland  ;  but  the  condemna- 
tion of  Mary,  and  Elizabeth's  dissimulation  to  avoid  its  odium,  will 

ave  a  deep  stain  on  her  otherwise  fair  fame. 

•  In  person  Elizabeth  was  tall,  straight,  and  strong;  with  a  high, 
round  forehead,  brown  eyes,  fair  complexion,  fine  teeth,  and  yellow 
hair.  She  was  a  proficient  in  music,  in  history,  the  dead  and  living 
languages,  and  in  the  sciences.  Her  memory  was  good,  her  con- 
versation sprightly,  her  judgment  solid,  and  her  courage  invincible. 
It  is  true,  that  Elizabeth  was  quick-tempered,  and  sometimes  vio- 
lent ;  that  she  was  fond  of  admiration,  and  of  a  jealous  disposition  ; 
— but  these  faults,  blended  with  her  virtues,  almost  fade  away  ; — she 
had  many  difficulties  to  overcome,  many  passions  to  subdue ;  she 
sacrificed  the  j)leasures  of  connubial  life  on  the  altar  of  patriotism, 
and  lived  and  died  a  faithful  mother  to  the  nation. 

During  this  reign,  watches,  coaches^  tobacco,  and  the  manufac- 
tures of  silk  for  clothing,  were  introduced  into  England.  The 
first  ])aper-mill  was  erected  at  Dartford,  by  a  German,  in  1588,  who 
was  knighted  by  Elizabeth  ;  but  it  was  not  before  1713,  that  one 
Thomas  Watkins,  a  stationer,  brought  the  art  of  paper-making  to 
any  i)ci-fection  in  England.  Previous  to  that  period,  paper  was  im- 
ported. The  ce'ebrated  Dr.  William  Harvey,  l)orn  1578,  died  1658. 

James  I.,  (1603—1625,) 

the  VI.  king  of  Scotland,  and  the  first  of  the  Stuart  family  in  England. 
He  was  the  son  of  Maiy,  queen  of  Scotland,  by  her  cousin  Henry, 
Lord  Damley,  and  was  born  in  1566.  By  this  union  of  the  crowns 
of  England  and  Scotland  imder  one  king,  (but  two  parliaments,) 
a  permanent  peace  was  established  between  the  two  countries, 
wliicli  long  and  bloody  wars  had  failed  to  accomplish.  James  had 
been  educated  a  Presbyterian  ;  but  when  he  became  king  of  England, 
he  changed  his  sentiments,  embi^ed  Episcopacy,  and  denounced 
the  Puritans.  He  labored  to  extefld  the  royal  prerogative,  to  annihi- 
late the  freedom  of  parliament  and  tlie  rights  of  the  people.  This 
conduct  protluced  Court  and  Counti-y  parties,  which  continue  to  this 
day,  and  are  known  by  the  phrases  of  tories  and  iohig;s.  James 
was  a  mim  of  some  talents,  but  easily  led  astray  by  unprincipled  fa- 
vorites. He  was  less  of  a  statesman  than  a  religious  controvertist. 
He  WiiH  corpulent,  intemperate,  and  slovenly,  and  his  reign  produced 
little  good  at  home,  and  no  respect  abroad.  James  married  Jlnne, 
daughter  of  Frederick  of  Denmark.     He  had  two  sons  and  a  daugh- 


A    CHRONOLOGICAL    SKETCH    OF    GREAT    BRITAIN.  153 

ter,  Elizabeth.  The  island  of  Barbadoes,  the  first  English  settle- 
ment in  the  West  Indies,  was  planted  in  1625.  In  this  and  the 
preceding  reigns,  a  number  of  eminent  men  arose  in  England, 
among  which  were  Spenser,  Sidney,  Bacon,  Camden,  Jonson,  Cecil, 
Sir  Edward  Coke,  and  the  immortal  Shakspeare,  who  died  in 
1616,  aged  52.  The  English  translation  of  the  Bible  now  in  use 
was  published  in  1611.     Sir  Walter  Raleigh  died  in  1618,  aged  (Mi. 

Charles  I.,  (1625—1649,) 

son  of  James  L,  was  born  in  1600.  Charles  possessed  the  despotic 
principles  of  his  father,  though  perhaps  in  a  greater  degree. 

"  In  ecclesiastical  affairs,  Charles,  unhappily  for  himself  and  the 
church,  was  guided  by  the  counsels  of  Laud,  the  bishop  of  Loudon, 
(executed  for  high  treason  in  1645,)  a  prelate  whose  learning  and 
piety  were  debased  by  superstition,  and  a  zeal  as  indiscreet  as  intol- 
erant." The  cause  of  religious  liberty,  at  this  period,  appeared 
almost  desperate :  great  efforts  were  made  to  prevent  the  embarka- 
tion of  emigrants  for  New  England ;  of  which  number  were  the  fa- 
mous Oliver  Cromwell  and  John  Hampden.  Difficulties  occurred 
in  Scotland,  which  produced  the  famous  Covenant  of  1638,  whereby 
the  Covenanters,  as  they  were  called,  engaged  to  stand  togetlier  in 
defence  of  their  religious  rights.  The  oppressed  Catholics  in  Ire- 
land rose  in  defence  of  their  rights;  and  Charles,  finding  himself  too 
weak  to  witlistand  the  torrent  of  popular  opu)ion,  renounced  his 
claims  of  prerogative  in  1641 — but  too  late  to  save  his  life.  He  fled 
to  Scotland,  but  was  given  up  for  £400,000,  and  beheaded,  January 
30,  1649. 

Charles  married  Henrietta  Maria  of  France,  and  left  two  sons 
and  a  daughter.     Canada  was  ceded  to  France  in  1629. 

The  Commonwealth,  (1649 — 1660.) 

After  the  death  of  Charles  I.,  the  parliament  nominally  governed, 
but  Cromwell  was  its  master  spirit 

Oliver  Cromwell  was  bom  of  respectable  parents,  April  24, 
1599,  and  was  a  cousin  of  the  celebrated  John  Hampden.  At  the 
age  of  17,  Cromwell  was  sent  to  Cambridge,  where  he  studied  with 
zeal,  but  distinguished  himself  more  in  broils  and  combats  than  in 
learning.  The  next  year,  he  was  sent  to  London  to  study  law,  but 
spent  his  time  in  gambling  and  bad  company.  At  the  age  of  21,  he 
renounced  his  vices  and  follies,  connected  himself  with  a  religious 
party,  studied  theology  and  military  tactics,  and  married  Elizabetli 
Bourchier,  a  lady  of  good  family  and  some  pride.  Cromwell  was  a 
member  of  parliament,  and  sided  with  the  opposition  against  tlie 
arbitrary  measures  of  Charles  I.  He  became  conunander  of  tlie 
army,  fought  the  battle  at  Worcester,  Sept  3,  1651,  and  put  Charles 
Stuart  to  flight.  "  With  the  Bible  in  one  hand,  and  the  sword  in  the 
other,"  Cromwell  dissolved  the  lo-ng  parliament,  which  had  contin- 
ued from  1640  to  1653,  made  himself  lord  protector  of  Enghind, 
Scotland,  and  Ireland,  Decemlier  12,  165.'3,and  died  in  full  possession 
of  his  power,  Sept.  3,  1658.  Cromwell  was  probably  sincere  in  his 
religious  sentiments ;  but  his  crafty  nature,  heated  zeal,  and  love 


154  THE    FAMILY    VISITOR. 

of  power,  united  with  the  circumstances  of  the  times,  led  him  into 
the  windings  of  intrigue.  "  On  his  death-bed,  ho  asked  his  preacher 
whether  it  was  true  that  the  elect  could  never  finally  fall ;  and  when 
assured  that  it  was  so,  Cromwell  rejoined,  '  Then  I  am  safe  ;  for  I 
am  sure  that  once  I  was  in  a  state  of  grace.' " 

Charles  II.    (1661—1685.) 

Cromwell's  sons  having  declined  the  protectorship,  Charles  11.,  son 
of  Charles  I.,  by  the  aid  of  the  royal  party,  under  General  Monk, 
came  to  the  throne  May  29,  1661.  Charles  was  born  in  1630.  He 
married  the  infanta  of  Portugal,  a  prudent  and  virtuous  princess,  in 
1662;  but  his  character  was  so  deceitful,  prodigal,  and  tyrannical, 
that  neither  his  family,  nor  the  nation,  derived  any  pleasure  or  honor 
by  their  connection  with  him.  He  governed  four  years  without  a 
parliament,  and  was  more  under  the  influence  of  France  than  his 
own  people.  He  left  no  issue  by  his  wife,  but  a  number  of  illegiti- 
mate children,  the  descendants  of  some  of  whom  are  among  the 
leading  peerage  of  the  country. 

The  plague  caiTied  off  68,596  persons  in  London,  in  1665.  In 
1666,  13,200  houses  were  burnt  in  London ;  the  ruins  covered 
436  acres  of  land.  Tea  was  first  used  in  England  the  same  year. 
The  duke  of  Monmouth,  a  natural  son  of  Charles  H.,  raised  a  rebel- 
lion, was  defeated  and  beheaded  by  James  II.,  in  1685.  The  im- 
mortal MUton  died  in  1674,  aged  &j.  The  learned  jurist.  Sir  Matthew 
Hale,  died  m  1676,  aged  67. 

James  XL,  (1685—1689,) 
the  VIL  king  of  Scotland,  son  of  Charles  I.,  was  born  in  1633. 
Previous  to  his  coming  to  the  throne,  he  married  Anne,  daughter  of 
Lord  Clarendon.  His  second  wife  was  Mary  Beatrice,  daughter  of 
the  duke  of  Modena.  He  left  two  daughters,  Mary  and  Anne. 
James  was  a  good  sailor,  and  greatly  promoted  the  interests  of  the 
navy ;  but  he  came  to  the  throne  with  a  determination  to  reestablish 
the  Catholic  religion,  and  to  make  himself  absolute  in  the  govern- 
ment. In  both  of  these  attempts  he  failed ;  for,  after  burning  and 
hanging  more  than  250  Protestants  by  the  judicial  agency  of  the  in- 
famous Jeffreys,  he  was  deposed  in  December,  1688,  and  fled  to 
France.     He  ended  his  miserable  life  at  St.  Germain  in  1701. 

William  and  Mary,  (1689—1702.) 

William  III.,  prince  of  Orange  and  Nassau,  and  stadtholder  of  the 
United  Provinces,  was  born  in  1650.  Princess  JWary  was  the  daugh- 
ter of  James  II.,  and  born  in  1661.  They  were  married  in  1677,  and 
died  wilhout  issue.  They  obtained  the  crown  by  a  bloodless  revo- 
lution, Feb.  13,  1689.  During  this  reign  the  character  of  the  British 
nation  rose  in  foreign  countries;  the  rights  and  interests  of  the  peo- 
ple were  protected,  the  liberty  of  the  press  established,  religious 
opinions  tolerated,  commerce  and  manufactures  encouraged,  and 
the  navy  fostered  and  increased.  Mary  died  in  1694,  to  the  gieut 
regret  of  the  nation.  Previous  to  her  marriage,  when  questioned  in 
regard  to  a  husband,  she  said,  "There  is  but  one  command  which  I 
wish  him  to  obey ;  and  that  is, '  Husbands,  love  your  tcives.''   For  my-  « 


A    CHRONOLOGICAL   SKETCH    OP    GREAT   BRITAIN.  155' 

self,  I  Bhall  follow  the  injunction,  '  Wives,  he  obedient  to  your  kusbanda 
in  all  things.'' "  Mary  performed  her  promise,  and  enjoyed  the  af- 
fection of  her  husband.  William  remained  stadtholder  of  the  United 
Provinces  during  his  life.  He  was  of  the  middle  stature,  grave,  tem- 
perate, and  slow  of  speech.  He  had  a  fine  forehead,  aquiline  nose, 
and  sparkling  eyes.  He  was  I'eraarkable  for  bi|  equanimity  of  tem- 
per and  military  prowess. 

The  Bank  of  England  was  incorporated  in  1693,  and  gi-anted  to 
certain  persons  who  advanced  the  government  £1,200,000,  at  8  per 
cent,  per  annum.  This  was  the  commencement  of  the  funded  na- 
tional debt.  The  Bank  of  England  is  a  bank  of  deposit,  discount, 
and  circulation  ;  and  is  so  connected  with  tlie  government,  that 
neither  the  bank  or  the  nation  can  manage  its  financial  concerns 
without  the  aid  of  the  other.  Its  charter  has  been  renewed,  the 
rates  of  interest  varied,  and  its  capital  increased,  from  time  to  time. 
Its  present  capital  is  stated  to  be  £11,642,400,  of  which  £10,672,490 
is  permanently  loaned  to  th»  government.  The  dividends  of  this 
bank,  from  its  charter  to  the  present  time,  have  varied  from  4iJ  to  10 
per  cent.  —  averaging  about  7i  per  cent,  per  annum.  Its  circula- 
tion, in  1817,  was  £30,099,908.  From  1797  to  1823,  the  bank,  by 
permission  of  parliament,  refused  specie  for  its  bills.  During  that 
period,  the  depreciation  of  the  bank  paper  did  not  exceed  15  per 
cent.  The  quarterly  statement  of  this  bank,  in  Jul}',  1839,  was  as 
follows : — 


Liabilities. 

Circulatioa, £16,049,000 

Deposits, 7,955,000 


£26,004,000 


Jlssetg. 

Securities, £24,905,000 

Bullion, 3,785,000 

£28,6<)0,000 


Anne,  (1702—1714.) 

As  William  and  Mary  left  no  child,  Anne,  the  sister  of  Mary,  and 
the  second  daughter  of  James  II.,  came  to  the  throne.  Slie  was 
born  in  1664,  aud,^a3  married,  in  1683,  to  Prince  George,  brother 
of  Christian  V.,  oll^enmark,  who  died  in  1710.  Anne  was  fair,  but 
not  vei-y  haudsome.  Her  intellectual  endowments  were  rather  good 
tiian  great.  She  was  remarkable  for  litr  piety  and  deeds  of  charity, 
and  her  death  produced  unaffected  sorrow. 

Anne,  by  her  accession  to  the  British  throne,  had  the  singular 
good  fortune  to  please  both  ichigs  and  tones  —  a  miracle  never  per- 
formed by  man.  The  tories  looked  to  her  for  an  heir  to  the  house 
^f  Stuart,  while  the  whigs  were  confident  of  her  determination  to 
preserve  the  bounce  of  power  in  Europe,  by  opposing  the  domiiieer- 
i*g  spirit  of  Lewis  XIV.,  in  his  efforts  to  unite  the  French  and  Span- 
ish crowns.  Anne  took  Gibraltar  from  Spain,  in  1704,  but,  altliough 
she  liad  borne  seventeen  children,  died  childless.  Anue  was  there- 
fore the  last  of  the  Stuart  family.  ^  * 

The  treaty  of  union  between  England  and  Scotland,  withti  com- 
mon parliament,  under  the  name  of  Greed  Britain^  was  signed  July 
22,  1706.  ^By  the  treaty  of  Utrecht,  in  1713,  Nova  Scotia,  New 
Brunswick,  New  Britain,  Hudson's  Bay.  and  Newfoundland,  wcto 


156  THE    FAMILY    VISITOR. 

ceded  by  France  to  Great  Britain.  This  reign  is  celebrated  for  the 
success  of  tiie  British  arms,  and  for  the  eminent  men  of  the  British 
nation  who  adorned  the  walks  of  litei*ature. 

^  George  I.  (1714—1727.) 

The  British  parliament  passed  an  act,  in  1708,  securing  the  suc- 
cession of  the  British  crown  to  Sophia,  daughter  of  Frederick,  elector 
palatine  and  king  of  Bohemia,  by  Elizabeth,  daughter  of  James  I., 
and  to  her  descendants;  thus  vesting  the  succession  of  the  crown  in 
tlie  Protestant  line  of  the  house  of  Brunswick,  to  the  exclusion  of 
the  Catholic  line  of  the  house  of  Stuart. 

George  I.  was  the  eldest  son  of  Sophia,  by  Ernest  Augustus, 
duke,  afterwards  elector,  of  Brunswick-Lunenburg,  or  Hanover. 
He  was  born  May  28,  1G60.  He  succeeded  his  father  as  elector  of 
Hanover  in  1700,  and  acquired  the  character  of  a  brave  and  circum- 
spect general.  He  was  married,  in  1682,  to  his  cousin,  Sophia  Doro- 
thea, daughter  of  the  duke  of  Zell.  They  had  a  son,  George  II. ; 
and  a  daugliter,  Sophia  Dorothea,  queen  of  Prussia.  Although  the 
reign  of  George  I.  was  marked  by  prejudices  favorable  to  his  native 
country,  yet,  with  Sir  Robert  Walpole  as  prime  minister,  the  j)ros- 
perity  and  power  of  the  nation  were  increased. 

The  house  of  Brunsvs^ick,  or  Hanover,  dates  its  origin  from  Azo  II., 
marquis  of  Tuscany,  in  the  eleventh  century.  Chielph,  a  son  of  Azo, 
\Vtts  created  duke  of  Bavaria  in  1071.  He  married  Judith  of  Flan- 
ders, a  lineal  descendant  of  Alfred  the  Great.  The  ducal  line,  in 
Germany,  is  another  branch  of  the  house  of  Brunswick. 

George  was  plain  and  simple  in  his  person  and  address ;  grave 
and  temperate,  though  familiar  and  facetious  in  his  hours  of  recrea- 
tion.    He  died  June  11,  1727. 

Addison  died  in  1719,  aged  47;  the  duke  of  Marlborough  in  1722, 
aged  72 ;  and  Newton  in  1726,  aged  84. 

Inoculation  for  the  small-pox  commenced  in  England  in  1727. 

George  IL,  (1727—1760,) 

son  of  George  I.,  was  born  in  1683,  and  die<M)ct,  25,  1760.  In 
1703,  he  mai-ried  Wilhdmina  Dorothea  Carolin^of  Brandenburg- 
Anspach,  by  whom  he  had  two  sons  and  five  daughters.  George 
possessed  all   the  attachment   of  his  father   for  Germany,  yet   he 

1)roved  faithful  to  the  nation,  and  acquired  the  love  of  his  people, 
u  his  person  he  was  rather  below  the  middle  size,  "Well  shaped, 
erect ;  with  prominent  eyes,  large  nose,  and  fair  complexion.  His 
temper  was  quick,  but  soon  appeased.  He  was  temperate,  method- 
ical, and  brave.  In  this  reign,  by  the  guidance  of  Pitt,  the  first  earl 
of  Ciiatham,  the  nation  was  raised  to  the  height  of  gldi||r  5  commerce 
and  manufactures  flourished,  and  the  human  mind  made  great  dis- 
plays of  it**  power  by  many  distinguished  writers,  whose  works  will 
live  to  instruct  and  delight  unborn  millions. 

Iti  1755,  the  cotton  manufacture  of  England  was  ranked  "  amongst 
the  humblest  of  the  domestic  arts."  The  value  of  cotton  goods  man- 
ufiictured  in  England,  in  1834,  exceeded  one  hundred  and  sixty  mil- 
lions of  dollars;  the  njanufacture  of  which  employed  a  million  and 
a  half  of  people. 


;e4|^ii 


A    CHRONOLOGICAL   SKETCH    OF    GREAT    BRITAIN.  157 

Li  this  reign  the  national  debt  amounted  to  £75,000,000,  the  in- 
terest on  which,  being  reduced  to  3  per  cent.,  forms,  what  is  now 
called,  the  consolidated  or  three  per  cent,  stock. 

George  III.  (1760—1820) 

was  the  eldest  son  of  Frederick,  prince  of  Wales,  by  Prince||PS.u-  ^^  i 
gusta  of  Saxe-Gotha,  and  grandson  of  George  IL      He  was  bom 
June  4, 1738.  v> 

The  reign  of  George  III.  is  peculiarly  interesting  to  Americans, 
as  in  177G  the  colonies,  now  tlie  Unitecl  States,  were  severed  from 
the  dominion  of  the  Britisli  crown.  This  event  formed  a  new  era. 
It  was  the  birth  of  liberty  in  the  western  world.  At  a  vast  ex[)ense 
of  blood  and  treasure,  it  taught  the  important  lessons,  that  a  brave 
and  intelligent  people,  firmly  united  in  the  cause  of  hberty,  will  al- 
ways prevail ;  and  that  no  government  is  wise  that  extends  its  juris- 
diction beyond  its  power  of  protection.  George  suffered,  occasion- 
ally, from  menttd  derangement.  From  Feb.  6, 1811,  to  the  time  of 
his  death,  Jan.  29, 1820,  he  was  unfit  to  perform  any  of  the  duties  of 
government.  During  this  period,  the  sovereignty  was  represented 
by  the  late  George  IV.,  as  prince  regent.  At  the  death  of  George 
III.,  the  national  debt  amounted  to  §3,490,896,768.  During  this 
reign,  Europe  changed  from  a  scene  of  bloody  warfare  to  a  state  of 
profound  peace.  On  the  14th  of  July,  1815,  the  conqueror  of  coun- 
ti'ies  and  the  creator  of  kingdoms  sued  for  the  protection  of  the  Brit- 
isli  nation  in  these  emphatic  words :  —  "  Like  Themistocles,  I  throw 
myself  on  the  protection  of  the  most  constant  and  the  most  generous 
of  my  enemies.     Napoleon." 

The  following  great  men  died  in  this  reign:  —  Samuel  Johnson, 
in  1784,  aged  75 ;  Edmund  Burke,  in  1797,  aged  67 ;  Horatio  Nel- 
son, in  1805,  aged  47  ;  William  Pitt,  (earl  of  Chatham,)  in  1806,  aged 
47,  and  Charles  James  Fox,  in  1806,  aged  58. 

George  III.  was  a  man  of  common  understanding,  moderate  ac-  ^ 
quirements,  and  plain  maimers.  Being  a  native  of  Great  Britain,  he 
was  free  from  foreign  attachments.  He  was  married,  Sept.  8,  1761, 
to  the  princess  Charlotte  Sophia  of  Mecklenburg-Strelitz.  She  was 
bom  3lay  16,  1744,  and  died  in  1818.  George  III.  and  Queen  Char- 
lotte were  exceedingly  exemplary  in  all  their  domestic  relations,  and 
both  were  greatly  beloved  by  the  people.  They  had  thirteen  chil- 
dren, seven  sons  and  six  daughters,  to  wit : — 

Frederick  Augustus,  the  late  king,  George  IV. 

Frederick,  duke  of  York,  born  Aug.  16,  1763,  died  Oct.  4,  1830. 
He  was  married,  Sept.  29,1791,  to  a  daughter  of  the  king  of  Prussia. 
He  left  no  issue. 

William  Hmru,  the  late  king,  William  IV. 

Edward,  late  duke  of  Kent,  father  of  Queen  Victoria,  born  Nov. 
2,  1767,  and  died  Jaa.  23, 1820.  He  married  Victoria  Maria  Louisa^ 
sister  of  the  duke  of  Saxe-Coburg,  and  of  Leopold,  king  of  Belgium, 
born  Aug.  17,  1786. 

The  duke  of  Kent  was  in  his  person  tall  and  athletic;  his  appear- 
ance dignified,  his  deportnient  affable,  and  bis  bravery  chivalrous. 
He  served  at  Gibraltar  in  1790,  and  commanded  in  Canada  in  1793. 
14 


158  THE    FAMILY    VISITOR. 

In  the  West  India  campaign,  in  1795 — 6,  bis  conduct  procured  him 
the  highest  encomiums.  In  politics,  he  was  invariably  tolerant,  lib- 
eral, and  conciliatory. 

Ernest  Augustus,  king  of  Hanover,  late  duke  of  Cumberland,  was 
mik  June  5,  1771.  He  was  married  to  Frederica  Sophia  Carolina, 
s'lsU^fthe  duke  of  Mecklenburg-Strelitz,  May  29,  1815.  She  was 
bonOlarch  20,  1778.    Issue,  George  Frederick,  born  May  27,  1819. 

Goprge  I.,  at  his  accession  to  the  British  throne,  was  elector  of 
Hanover;  and  since  that  time,  Hanover  has  been  under  the  govern- 
ment of  Great  Britain.  In  1814,  Hanover  was  erected  hito  a  king- 
dom, and  British  kings  have  also  been  kings  of  Hanover.  But  as 
the  Salic  law  excludes  females  from  the  throne  of  Hanover,  on  the 
accession  of  Victoria,  the  crown  of  that  kingdom  passed  to  the 
duke  of  Cumberland,  the  eldest  brother  of  King  William  IV.     This 

Erince  has  generally  resided  in  foreign  countries.  He  is  said  to 
ave  lived  a  dissipated  life,  and  is  very  unpopular  in  England. 

Augustus  Frederick,  duke  of  Su&sex,  born  Jan.  27,  1773,  mamed, 
Dec.  5,  1793,  Lady  AugusUi  Murray,  daughter  of  the  earl  of  Dun- 
more.  She  died  in  1830.  This  marriage  was  declared  void  in  1794, 
^  because  it  was  not  contracted  with  the  previous  consent  of  the 
king,  according  to  12  George  IIL 

Adolphus  Frederick,  duke  of  Cambridge,  born  Feb.  24,  1774,  mar- 
ried. May  7,  1818,  Augusta  Wilhelmina  Louisa,  niece  of  the  land- 
grave of  Hesse.  She  was  born  July  5,  1797.  Issue,  George  fVilliam, 
born  March  26,  1819;  Augusta  Caroline,  born  July  19,  1822;  and 
Mary  Adelaide,  born  Nov.  27,  1833. 

The  Princess  Elizabeth  was  born  May  22, 1770,  and  was  married, 
April  7,  1818,  to  Frederick  Joseph  Lewis,  landgrave  of  Hesse-IIom- 
burg.    He  died  April  2,  1829. 

The  Princess  Mary,  duchess  of  Gloucester,  was  born  April  25, 
1776,  and  was  manned,  July  22,  1816,  to  her  cousin,  Jfilliam  Fred- 
erick, duke  of  Gloucester,  who  died  Nov.  30,  1834. 

The  Princess  Charlotte  Augusta  Matilda,  born  Sept.  29,  1766,  and 
married,  May  18,  1797,  to  the  duke  of  Wirtemburg-Stutgardt,  and 
Princess  Amdia,  born  Aug.  7,  1783,  are  dead. 

The  Princess  Augusta  Sophia,  born  Nov.  8,  1768,  and  Princess 
Sophia,  born  Nov.  3, 1777,  are  unmarried.  Neither  of  the  daughters 
have  issue. 

George  IV.,  (1820—1830,) 

Frederick  Augustus,  prince  of  Wales,  eldest  son  of  Gfeorge  III.,  was 
lK)m  Aug.  12,  1762,  and  died  Jan.  26,  1830.  He  married,  April  8, 
179.5,  Princess  Caroline  Amelia  Elizabeth  of  Brunswick,  daughter  of 
duke  Charles  William  Ferdinand,  and  Augusta,  sister  of  George  III. 
They  had  one  child,  the  Princess  Charlotte  Augusta,  who  was 
born  Jan.  7,  1796.  Charlotte  was  married.  May  2,  1816,  to  Prince 
Leopold  of  Saxe-Coburg,  now  king  of  Belgium^  Princess  Charlotte 
was  a  pattern  of  all  that  is  excellent  in  female  character.  She  was 
heiress  apparent  to  the  throne,  and  perfectly  fitted  to  fill  the  station 
of  sovereign,  had  Providence  permitted  her  to  live ;  but  she  was 
suddenly  removed  by  death,  Nov.  5, 1817,  leaving  the  nation  over- 


t 


A    CHRONOLOGICAL   SKETCH    OF    GREAT    BRITAIN.  159 

whelmed  with  grief;  in  which  the  people  of  every  civilized  country 
sympatliized. 

The  talents  of  George  IV.  were  of  the  first  order ;  but  they  were 
greatly  abused  by  a  dissipated  life.  In  person,  he  was  considered 
one  of  the  handsomest  men  in  the  kingdom.  He  became  regent  of 
the  realm,  on  the  illness  of  George  III.,  Feb.  6,  1811,  and  kq^g,  on 
the  death  of  that  monarch,  Jan.  29,  1820.  The  conduct  of  this 
prince  towards  his  queen,  Caroline,  has  left  a  stigma  on  his  charac- 
ter which  never  can  be  blotted  out.  In  1820,  the  queen  was  ac- 
cused, before  parliament,  of  having  forfeited  her  rights  as  queen,  in 
consequence  of  her  unfaitlifulness  to  the  marriage  bed,  which  her 
dissolute  husband  had  deserted,  since  the  birth  of  his  daughter,  the 
Princess  Charlotte.  In  this  investigation,  every  feeling  due  to  female 
delicacy  or  princely  dignity  was  entirely  disregarded.  Had  the 
charges  against  the  queen  been  true,  George  IV.  was  the  last  maa 
in  England  to  have  complained  of  the  incontinence  of  his  wife. 
Caroline  died  Aug.  7,  1821,  and  is  buried  at  Brunswick,  with  tliese 
expressive  words  over  her  tomb,  —  "The  unhappy  queen  of  Eng- 
land." 

William  IV.  (1830—1837.) 

William  Henry,  duke  of  Clarence,  the  third  son  of  George  III., 
was  born  Aug.  21,  1765.  William  Henry  entered  the  navy  as  a  mid- 
shipman in  1778.  He  was  fond  of  the  naval  service,  and  rose  in  reg- 
ular gradation.  He  was  made  rear  admiral  of  the  Blue  in  1790,  and 
lord  high  admiral  in  1827.  William  was  more  of  a  sailor  than  a 
statesman,  and  more  of  a  statesman  than  many  of  his  predecessors. 
He  was  plain  in  his  manners,  honest,  blunt,  and  noble-spirited.  He 
loved  his  country,  and  used  his  best  efforts  to  promote  its  prosperity, 
and  the  happiness  of  its  people.  From  1791  to  1811,  William  Henry 
was  connected  with  Mrs.  Jordan,  a  very  beautiful  woman,  by  whom 
he  had  ten  children,  eight  of  which  survive.  The  eldest  son  isearl|^ 
of  Munster ;  the  other  sons  and  daughters  have  the  title  and  prece-^^ 
dence  of  the  children  of  a  marquis.  Mrs.  Jordan  died  in  France,  in 
1816.  William  married,  July  11,  1818,  Adelaide  Amelia  Louisa  Te- 
resa Caroline,  daughter  ofthe  duke  of  Saxe-Meininger.  By  her  he 
had  two  daughters,  who  died  in  infancy.  King  William's  widow, 
Adelaide,  or  the  queen  dowager,  was  born  Aug.  13,  1792.  William 
gained  great  popularity,  and  died  much  lamented,  June  20,  1837 

Victoria.  (1837.) 
Victoria  A  lexandrina,  only  child  ofthe  late  duke  of  Kent,  came  to 
the  throne,  on  the  death  of  her  uncle,  the  late  King  William  IV., 
June  20,  1837.    She  was  bom  May  24,  1819.     The  character  of    "< 
Victoria,  as  the  sovereign  of  a  great  and  powerful  nation,  n  not 

}ret  developed ;  but,  from  the  education  of  this  princess,  her  excel- 
ent  natural  talents,  and  amiable  disposition,  the  people  of  Great 
Britain  have  cause  to  indulge  the  most  pleasing  anticipations. 

Victoria  was  crowned  queen  of  England  on  tlie  28th  of  Jime, 
1838. 

3* 


^^ 


160  THE    FAMILY   VISITOR. 


DOMESTIC  RECEIPTS. 


4  Coffee. 

0  Coflee  was  first  brought  to  England  in  1652.  It  was  only  pre- 
pared and  sold  for  a  long  time,  at  first,  at  taverns ;  fi*om  which  cir- 
cumstance they  acquired  the  name  of  "  Coffee  Houses."  These 
soon  became  the  resort  of  literary  men  and  politicians;  and  on  this 
account,  more  than  from  any  hostility  to  the  berry  itself,  it  was  that 
these  houses  were  all  shut  up  by  royal  edict  in  1675.  Previously 
to  the  introduction  of  tea  and  coffee  into  England,  the  people  were 
accustomed  to  drink  beer  and  wine ;  but  their  use  had  long  been 
known  in  the  East,  The  Chinese  were  the  first  who  prepared  tea, 
and  the  following  anecdote  will  show  tliat  they  are  at  least  as  whim- 
sical as  we,  while  it  proves  that  the  virtues  attributed  to  tea  are 
either  imaginary,  or  may  be  found  in  many  plants  in  our  own  coun- 
try, whose  cheapness  has  prevented  them  from  being  noticed. 
When  the  Dutch  first  visited  China,  they  could  not  obtain  their  tea 
without  disbursing  money  ;  but  on  their  second  voyage,  they  carried 
a  great  quantity  of  dried  sage,  and  bartered  it  with  the  Chinese,  at 
the  rate  of  one  pound  of  sage  for  three  or  four  pounds  of  tea;  but 
at  length  the  Dutch  could  not  procure  a  sufiicient  quantity  of  sage 
to  supply  the  demand. 

The  following  are  some  of  the  rules  laid  down  for  preparing  this 
agreeable  bevei-age : — 

1.  The  best  coffee  is  imported  from  Mocha.  It  is  said  to  owe 
liiuch  of  its  superior  quality  to  being  kept  long. 

Coffee  of  all  kinds  should  be  carefully  roasted  by  a  gradual  appli- 
cation of  heat  —  scorching,  but  not  burning  it.  Grinding  coffee  has 
^een  found  preferable  to  pounding  it :  by  the  latter  process  some 
|ftf  the  oily  substances  are  lost.  A  filtrating  tin  or  silver  pot,  with 
double  sides,  between  which  hot  water  must  be  poured,  to  prevent 
the  coffee  from  cooling,  as  practised  in  Germany,  is  the  best  ma- 
chiup  to  be  used.  Simple  infusion  in  this  implement,  with  boiling 
water,  is  all  that  is  required  to  make  a  cup  of  good  coffee  ;  and  tfie 
use  of  isinglass,  the  white  of  eggs,  or  fish-skin,  to  fine  the  liquor,  is 
quite  unnecessary.     By  this  means  coffee  is  made  quicker  than  tea. 

It  requires  about  one  small  cup  of  coffee-powder  to  make  four 
»  cups  of  tincture.  This  is  at  the  rate  of  an  ounce  of  good  powder 
to  four  common  coffee  cups.  When  the  powder  is  put  in  the  bag, 
as  many  cups  of  boiling  water  are  poured  over  it  as  may  be  wanted  : 
and  if  Uie  quantity  wanted  is  very  small,  so  that,  after  it  is  filtrated, 
it  does  not  reach  the  lower  end  of  the  bag,  the  liquor  must  be  poured 
back  three  or  four  times,  till  it  has  acquired  the  necessary  strengtli. 

2.  Let  it  be  burnt  in  a  close  vessel,  at  a  moderate  heat,  till  it  be- 
comes quite  black. 

Let  the  coffee  be  ground  or  pulverized  very  fine,  and  pour  hot 
water  upon  that  portion  which  is  designed  for  the  morning  or  even- 
ing, and  let  it  stand  twelve  hours  before  it  is  used.    During  the 


DOMESTIC    RECEIPTS.  161 

process  of  steeping,  be  cai*eful  not  to  raise  the  degree  of  heat  to  the 
point  of  boiling.  Coffee  prepared  in  this  manner  has  a  much  richer 
and  more  agi-eeable  taste  than  when  it  is  cooked  in  tlie  usual  way ; 
and  for  this  reason :  —  Neai'ly  all  the  aromatic,  volatile  principle, 
which  resides  in  it  in  its  natui-al  state,  and  which  adds  very  much 
to  its  pleasant  flavor,  is  retained ;  whereas,  if  it  is  subjected  to  a 
high  boiling  heat  a  few  moments,  this  ingredient  is  thrown  off  with 
the  steam  or  vapor,  and  nothing  remains  but  the  grounds  and  more 
inferior  qualities  of  the  coffee. 

Coffee  has  been  repeatedly  examined  by  chemists,  both  in  its  raw 
and  roasted  state.  Several  ingredients  enter  into  its  composition, 
such  as  resin,  gum,  a  bitter  extractive  matter,  gallic  acid,  &c.  When 
it  is  roasted,  a  peculiai*  change  takes  place  in  its  constituent  parts, 
and  if  great  care  be  not  taken  in  the  burning  and  steeping,  the  vol- 
atile particles  will  be  dissipated  and  lost. 

3.  In  making  coffee,  much  cai*e  is  requisite  to  extract  the  whole 
strength  and  flavor  of  the  berry ;  and  moreover  it  is  veiy  erroneous 
and  most  expensive  to  sweeten  it  with  raw  or  moist  sugar.  Many 
persons  imagine  that  the  moist  sugar  tends  more  to  sweeten ;  but 
if  exjieriment  be  made,  it  will  be  found  that  one  half  the  quantity  in 
weight  of  refined  sugar  will  add  more  sweetness,  and  the  flavor 
of  the  coffee  will  be  much  more  pure  and  delicate.  Li  Holland, 
where  coffee  is  the  universal  beverage  of  the  lower  classes,  the  sugar 
cannot  be  too  refined ;  and  the  boatmen  on  the  canals  may  be  seen 
mixing  the  most  beautiful  white  refined  sugar  with  their  coffee, 
while  on  such  their  custom  and  taste  they  pride  themselves  highly. 

The  seeds  of  grapes  are  generally  used,  in  Germany,  as  a  substi- 
tute for  coffee,  and  they  make  a  very  excellent  substitute.  When 
pressed,  they  yield  a  quantity  of  oil,  and  aflerwai'ds,  when  boiled, 
furnish  a  liquid  very  similar  to  that  produced  by  coffee.  Its  flavor 
is  delicious.  * 

Rice  Bread. 

Take  one  pound  of  rice,  and  boil  it  gently  to  a  thick  paste,  which, 
when  mixed  with  the  usual  quantity  of  yeast,  will  be  sufficient  to 
make  5  lbs  of  wheat  or  bai'ley  meal  into  a  dough.  When  risen, 
bake  it  in  the  usual  way.  The  London  Chronicle  says  that  this 
mixture  with  wheat  or  barley  will  produce  a  veiy  great  increase  of 
food. 

Apple  Bread. 

A  Frenchman  has  invented,  and  practised  with  great  success,  a 
method  of  making  bread  with  common  apples,  very  far  superior  to 
potato  briead. 

Afler  havuig  boiled  one  thu-d  of  peeled  apples,  he  bruised 
them  while  quite  warm  into  two  thirds  of  flour,  including  the  proper 
quantity  of  yeast,  and  kneaded  the  whole  without  water,  the  juice  of 
the  fruit  being  quite  sufficient.  ^Vhen  the  mixture  had  acquired  the 
consistency  of  paste,  he  put  it  into  a  vessel,  in  which  he  allowed  it 
to  rise  for  twelve  hours.  By  this  process  he  obtained  a  very  excellent 
bread,  full  of  eyes,  and  extremely  palatable  and  light. 
14* 


102  THE     FAMILY   VISITOR. 

Sweet  Apple  Pudding. 
Take  one  pint  of  scalding  milk,  half  a  pint  of  Indian  meal,  a  tea- 
spoonful  of  salt,  and  six  sweet  apples  cut  into  small  pieces,  and  bake 
not  less  than  tlu-ee  hours :  the  apples  will  afford  an  excellent  rich 
jelly.  This  is  truly  one  of  the  most  luxurious  yet  simple  Yankee 
puddings  made. 

Cream  Cakes* 

A  quart  of  cream  ;  four  eggs ;  sifted  flour  sufficient  for  a  thick 
batter ;  a  small  teaspoonful  of  pearlash  or  saleratus ;  a  spoonful  of 
salt.  Beat  four  eggs  very  light,  and  stir  them  by  degrees  (a  little  at  a 
time)  into  a  quart  of  cream ;  add  gradually  enough  of  sifted  flour 
to  make  a  thick  batter;  put  in  the  salt;  dissolve  the  pearlash  in  as 
much  vinegar  as  will  cover  it,  and  stir  it  into  the  mixture.  Bake  it 
in  muffin-rings.  Send  the  cakes  to  the  table  quite  hot ;  pull  them 
open,  and  butter  them. 

For  these  cakes,  sour  cream  is  better  than  sweet.  The  peai-lash 
will  remove  the  acidity,  and  the  batter  will  be  improved  in  lightness. 

Ginger  Sirup. 

Take  one  pound  of  race  ginger;  beat  it  into  small  pieces  in  a 
mortar.  Lay  them  in  a  pan,  cover  them  with  water,  and  let  them 
soak  all  night  Next  day,  take  the  ginger,  with  the  water  in  which 
it  has  soaked,  put  it  into  a  preserving-kettle,  with  two  gallons  of 
water,  and  boil  it  down  to  seven  pints.  Let  it  settle,  and  then  strain 
it  through  muslin.  Put  one  pound  of  loaf  sugar  to  each  pint  of  the 
liquor.  After  the  sugar  has  melted  in  the  liquor,  return  it  to  the 
kettle,  and  boil  it  one  hour  more,  skimming  it  well.  When  cold, 
bottle  it  for  use. 

Potatoes  a  la  Maltre  d'Hotel. 

Every  Englishman  who  goes  to  the  continent  eats  potatoes  a  la 
maitre  d'hotd.  On  his  return,  he  is  desnous  of  having  them  at  his 
own  table  ;  a  thing  that  can  seldom  be  accomplished,  though  the  pro- 
cess of  preparing  them  is  veiy  simple.  It  is  as  follows: — Boil  the 
l)otatoes,  and  let  them  become  cold.  Then  cut  them  into  rather 
thick  slices.  Put  a  lump  of  fresh  butter  m  a  stew-pan,  and  add  a 
little  flour,  about  a  teaspoonful  for  a  middluig-sized  dish.  —  When 
the  flour  has  boiled  a  little  while  in  the  butter,  add  by  degrees  a 
cupful  of  broth  or  water.  —  When  this  has  boiled  up,  put  in  the  po- 
tatoes with  chopped  pai-sley,  pepper,  and  salt.  Let  the  potatoes 
Btew  a  few  minutes,  then  take  them  from  the  fire,  and,  when  quite 
off  the  boil,  add  the  yolk  of  an  egg  beat  up  with  lemon  juice,  and  a 
tablespoonful  of  cold  water.  As  soon  as  the  sauce  has  set,  the  po- 
tatoes may  be  dished  up,  and  sent  to  table.  —  Magazine  of  Domestic 
Economy. 

Watery  Potatoes. 
We  eveiy  day  heai*  complaints  about  watery  potatoes.    Put  into 
the  pot  a  piece  of  lime  as  large  as  a  hen's  egg ;  and  how  watery 


DOMESTIC    RECEIPTS.  163 

soever  the  potatoes  may  have  been,  when  the  water  is  poured  oflj 
the  potatoes  will  be  perfectly  dry  and  mealy. 

Baked  Beans.  * 

Put  in  a  lump  of  saleratus  as  big  as  a  Avalnut,  and  a  little  molasses, 
with  your  beans  before  baking,  and  you  will  find  them  greatly  im 
proved. 

Winter  Batter. 

An  idea  prevails  very  extensively,  that  good  butter  cannot  be  made 
in  the  winter.  This  is  a  gi-eat  mistake.  Where  the  process  is  well 
understood,  as  fine  butter  is  made  in  the  depths  of  winter,  as  at  any 
season  of  the  year.  By  pursuing  the  following  course,  the  matter 
will  l)e  accomplished :  —  Let  the  cows  be  kept  mider  cover  in  a  warm 
stable,  well  fed  with  the  best  hay  and  provender,  and  milked  regu- 
larly morning  and  evening.  Place  the  milk  in  pans,  in  as  cold  a 
place  as  may  be  found  about  the  dairy  house ;  the  sooner  it  freezes, 
the  better.  As  soon  as  it  is  frozen  thoroughly,  take  the  cream  from 
the  top  —  the  frost  will  force  the  cream  to  the  surface  —  and  churn 
it  with  no  other  warmth  than  the  air  of  the  kitchen  at  the  distance 
of  eight  or  ten  feet  from  the  fire-place.  It  requires  more  time  to 
fetch  tlie  butter  than  in  summer ;  but  when  brought,  it  will  be  of 
the  finest  flavor  and  quality.  —  JV*.  Y.  Adv. 

Bad  Butter. 

It  may  be  useful  to  grocers,  as  well  as  to  private  families,  to  know 
that  bad  butter,  so  bad  as  to  be  scarcely  eatable  or  salable,  may  be  re- 
stored to  its  original  quality,  by  washing  it  in  water  sufiicicntly  warm 
to  make  it  dissolve  freely  in  the  hand,  until  the  old  salt  is  washed 
out,  and  by  then  adding  the  proper  quantity  of  new  salt,  and  about 
one  ounce  of  fine  moist  sugar  to  the  pound.  Beat  it  up  till  it  is 
fi-ee  from  water,  and  it  will  be  perfectly  good. 

Coring  Meat. 

The  following  receipt  was  brought  from  L-eland  about  100  years 
since,  and  has  been  in  use  with  general  satisfaction  ever  since  ;  that  is, 
beef  and  hams  cured  by  this  rule  are  never  salt-burnt,  but  remain 
juicy  and  tender  for  almost  any  length  of  time  :  —  For  a  barrel  or 
200  lbs.  of  either,  take  6  gallons  of  water,  12  lbs.  of  salt,  4  ounces 
of  saltpetre,  li  gallons  of  molasses,  and  12  lbs.  of  coarse  sugar. 

This,  when  dissolved  and  mixed  cold,  makes  a  brine  for  a  barrel, 
which  should  be  boiled  over  in  June,  and  skimmed,  and  when  cold 
turned  on  the  beef  again.  The  beef  should  be  handsomely  cut  in  • 
pieces  not  less  than  4  nor  more  than  12  lbs.  —  rubbed  with  fine 
salt,  and  packed  close ;  then  the  brine  turned  on.  Hams  should  lie 
in  this  brine  about  three  weeks  before  they  are  taken  out  to  smoke ; 
or,  if  a  pint  of  pyroligneous  acid  be  added  to  the  brine,  smoking 
may  be  dispensed  with.  —  Ohio  Farmer. 

Chimnejs. 

Listead  of  plastering  the  inside  of  chimneys  in  the  usual  way, 


164  THE    FAMILY    VISITOR. 

take  mortar  made  with  one  peck  of  salt  to  each  bushel  of  lime, 
adding  as  much  sand  and  loam  as  will  render  it  fit  to  work,  and  then 
lay  on  a  thick  coat  If  the  chimney  has  no  offsets  for  the  soot  to 
lodge  on,  it  will  continue  perfectly  clean  and  free  from  all  danger 
oOaking  fire.  The  writer  of  this  has  tried  the  experiment,  and, 
aPrer  three  years'  constant  use  of  a  chimney  plastered  as  above 
directed,  he  could  never  obtain  a  quart  of  soot,  though  he  several 
times  employed  a  sweep  to  scrape  it  from  top  to  bottom.  To  per- 
sons living  in  the  country,  this  will  be  found  valuable. 

Coring  and  cooking  Pickled  Fish.. 

[The  following  is  from  Henry  Pukkbtt,  Esq.  of  Boston,  late  Inspector-General  of  Fish 
in  Massachusetts.] 

The  use  of  pickled  fish,  such  as  mackerel,  salmon,  shad,  &c.,  is 
becoming  more  general  than  formerly,  and  would  be  still  more  ex- 
tensive, if  the  proper  mode  of  preparing  them  for  the  table  was 
l)etter  understood.  These  fish  constitute  not  only  a  salutary  diet, 
but,  in  many  cases,  make  a  very  beneficial  change  in  our  food. 

Whoever  will  give  the  following  directions  a  fair  trial,  will  become 
sensible  of  their  value  : — 

Mrst.  The  fish  should  be  kept  covered  by  the  pickle  by  means  of 
a  flat  stone  or  slate  laid  on  them.  The  oil,  or  animal  fat,  which 
floats  <m  the  top  of  the  cask,  should  not  be  removed,  as  it  prevents 
the  fish  from  rusting ;  but  in  taking  the  fish  from  the  barrel  or  keg, 
this  oil  ought  to  be  put  aside,  care  being  taken  not  to  let  the  fish 
touch  it. 

Secondly.  The  fish  should  be  washed  clean,  then  put  to  soak  in  a 
large  quantity  of  water  for  eight  or  ten  hours,  with  the  flesh  side 
down.  The  time  of  soaking  may  be  varied  to  suit  the  palate.  It 
must  again  be  washed  clean  ;  put  it  to  soak  six  or  eight  hours  in 
milk,  (if  you  have  it,)  then  dry  it  by  the  fire. 

Thirdly.  When  dry,  lay  it  on  the  gridiron,  with  the  flesh  side 
downward,  over  pretty  lively  coals,  for  five  minutes,  or  till  it  is  mod- 
erately browned  •,  then  turn  it  with  a  plate,  or  some  flat  instrument 
that  will  not  break  the  skin,  and  let  it  remain  over  the  coals  ten  or 
fifteen  minutes,  or  till  it  is  cooked  sufficiently.  Slide  it  off  the  grid- 
iron into  the  dish,  and  strip  off  the  backbone  with  a  broad  knife ; 
pat  the  fish,  to  cause  the  thick  part  of  tlie  fish  to  absorb  the  fat  from 
the  belly  part ;  use  no  butter  —  then  you  will  enjoy  all  the  flavor 
and  juices  of  the  fish. 

If*  a  mackerel  or  shad  so  prepared  does  not  relish,  it  must  be 
more  the  fault  of  the  palate,  than  of  the  food.  How  many  articles, 
capable  of  being  made  into  excellent  dishes,  are  lost  or  spoiled  from 
want  of  care  and  skill  in  dressing  them ! 

Leather  Water-Proof. 

Mix  together  a  quarter  of  a  pound  of  mutton  tallow,  three  ounces 
of  common  turpentine,  one  ounce  of  shellac,  and  an  ounce  of  bees- 
wax. Make  the  leather  perfectly  dry  and  warm,  and  rub  in  this 
mixture  as  warm  as  possible,  and  repeat  the  operation  every  other 
day  for  three  or  four  times  successively. 


DOMESTIC   RECEIPTS.  165 

Feather  Beds. 

The  want  of  feathers  is  altogether  artificial,  arising  from  a  disregard 
of  the  physical  and  moral  well-being  of  infants  and  children ;  and  he 
who  has  the  good  fortune  never  to  have  been  accustomed  to  a  feath- 
er bed,  will  never  in  health  need  or  desire  one,  nor  in  sickness,  ex- 
cept in  cases  of  great  morbid  irritation,  or  excessive  sensibility,  or 
some  disease  in  which  the  pressure  of  a  firm  or  elastic  substance 
might  occasion  pain.  But  when  a  rational  regard  to  the  preserva- 
tiott  of  health  shall  pervade  the  community,  feathers  will  no  more 
be  used  without  necessity  or  medical  advice,  than  ai'dent  spirits  will 
be  swallowed  without  the  same  necessary  advice.  The  physician 
has  frequent  occasion  to  see  persons  who  are  heated,  sweated,  en- 
feebled, by  sleeping  on  feathers,  as  if  from  a  fit  of  sickness  ;  enerva- 
ted, dispirited,  relaxed,  and  miserable.  —  Medical  Intelligencer. 

Rice  Cooking. 

1st  The  rice  must  be  thoroughly  scrubbed  and  rinsed  in  several 
waters,  until  the  floury  particles,  which  are  often  sour  or  musty,  are 
entirely  removed. 

2d.  A  handful  of  salt  should  be  thrown  into  a  pot  of  water,  which 
must  lK>il  before  the  rice  is  sprinkled  in. 

3d.  The  rice  should  be  boiled  steadily  twelve  minutes  ^  the 
watch  ;  the  water  should  then  be  poured  off,  and  the  pot  covered 
and  set  close  to  the  fire  to  steam  for  ten  minutes. 

Thus  prepared,  and  eaten  with  gravy,  milk,  butter,  &c.,  rice  is 
one  of  the  most  digestible  articles  of  food  in  nature;  but  i^  on  the 
contrary,  it  be  badly  cooked,  few  substances  are  more  apt  to  disor- 
der the  alimentary  system. 

Chickens. 

A  disease  called  the  gapes,  so  destructive  among  chickens,  may 
be  prevented,  and,  if  not  too  far  advanced,  cured  by  a  slight  mixture 
of  assafoetida  in  their  food.  Four  ounces,  costing  six  cents  per 
ounce,  dissolved  in  water,  and  mixed  once  a  day  in  food,  is  enough 
for  four  hundred  chickens. 

A  Bake  oat. 

The  Barnstable  Patriot  gives  the  following  as  a  mode  of  cooking 
fish  on  Cape  Cod. 

"  A  '  bake '  is  f)repared  by  first  laying  a  bed  of  stones  six  or  eight 
feet  square,  on  which  a  fire  is  built  and  kept  burning  until  the  stones 
are  red  hot ;  a  layer  of  wet  sea-weed  is  then  tlirown  upon  them,  and 
upon  the  sea-weed  a  layer  of  quahaugs  or  clams.  Over  these  is 
placed  another  layer  of*^wet  sea-weed;  on  this  layer  fish  is  laid, 
stuffed  and  wrapped  in  cloths  ;  and  after  another  layer  of  sea-weed, 
vegetables  may  be  put,  or  they  may  be  })laccd  between  the  fish  and 
quahaugs.  Over  tlie  whole  is  thrown  a  thick  covering  of  sea-weed, 
which  keeps  in  the  steam  that  is  genenited  by  the  heat  of  the  stones, 
and  which  thoroughly  penetrates  the  whole  mass.  In  a  short  time, 
the  *  bake '  is  opened,  and  all  the  culinary  preparations  are  found  com-  * 
pleted  '  to  a  charm,'  and  ready  for  the  table.    In  thi'j  way,  and  with 


166  THE    FAMILY    VtsiTOR. 

little  trouble  or  time,  a  rich  feast  may  be  sei-ved  for  a  large  com- 
pany. The  Indians,  doubtless,  prepared  their  »«6Ztc  cftnners  in  this 
summary  mode ;  and  it  is  from  them  that  their  white  brethren  are 
indebted  for  this  art  in  cookery." 

Cure  for  Cancer* 

Take  the  naiTOw-leaved  dock-root,  boil  it  in  soft  water,  wash  the 
ulcer  with  the  strong  decoction  warm  as  it  can  be  borne ;  fill  the  cav- 
ity with  the  liquor  for  two  minutes ;  then  scrape  the  hulk  of  the  root, 
bruise  it  fine,  put  it  on  gauze,  and  lay  it  over  every  part  of  the  ulcer ; 
dip  a  linen  cloth  in  the  decoction,  and  put  that  over  the  gauze :  re- 
peat this  three  times  in  24  hoin*s,  and  at  each  time  let  the  patient  take  a 
wine-glass  of  the  tea  made  of  the  root  with  one  third  of  a  glass  of 
Port  wine  sweetened  with  honey.  This  recipe  is  strongly  recom- 
mended by  the  Rev.  Dr.  Cutler,  of  Poughkeepsie,  N.  Y. 

Cramp. 

This  extraordinary  fact  has  been  determined,  that,  in  cases  of  the 
cramp,  a  bar  of  iron,  placed  under  the  mattress  on  which  the  person 
is  sleeping,  transversely  near  the  calf  of  the  leg,  will  effectually  pre- 
vent the  recurrence  of  the  attack.  The  bar  may  be  an  inch  square, 
or  a  common  poker  will  do.  If  there  be  two  mattresses,  place  the 
bar  between  them.  This  has  been  attested,  and  may  be  generally 
recommended. 

Care  for  Colds. 

Take  a  large  teaspoonljil  of  flax-seed,  vdth  two  pennyworth  of  ex- 
tract of  liquorice,  and  a  qUprter  of  a  pound  of  sun  raisins.  Put  it  into 
two  quarts  of  soft  water,  and  let  it  simmer  over  a  slow  fire,  tiU  it  is 
reduced  to  one  ;  tlien  add  to  it  a  quarter  of  a  pound  of  brown  sugai* 
cjmdy,  pounded,  a  tablespoonful  of  vdiite  wine  vinegar,  or  lemon 
juice.  —  Nbh.  The  vinegar  is  best  to  be  added  only  to  that  quantity 
you  are  going  immediately  to  take  ;  for  if  it  be  put  into  the  whole,  it 
is  liable  in  a  little  time  to  grow  flat.  —  Drink  a  half  pint  on  going  to 
bed,  and  take  a  little  when  the  cough  is  troublesome. 

This  recipe  generally  cures  the  worst  of  colds  in  two  or  three 
days,  and,  if  taken  in  time,  may  be  said  to  be  almost  an  uifallible  reme- 
dy. It  is  a  sovereign  balsamic  cordial  for  the  lungs,  without  the 
opening  quahties  which  engender  fresh  colds  on  going  out.  It  has 
been  known  to  cure  colds,  that  have  almost  been  settled  into  con- 
sumptions, in  less  than  three  weeks. 

Hoarseness. 

One  drachm  of  freshly-scraped  horse-radish  root,  to  be  infused  with 
four  ounces  of  water  in  a  close  vessel  for  two  hours,  and  made  into  a 
sirup,  with  double  its  weight  in  vinegar,  is  an  approved  remedy  for 
hoarseness ;  a  teaspoonful  has  often  proved  effectual ;  a  few  teaspoon- 
fuls,  it  is  said,  have  never  been  known  to  fail  in  removing  hoarseness. 

Barns. 
Mr.  A.  Brunson,  of  Meadville,  Pa.,  says,  from  fifteen  yeai's'  experi- 
ence, he  finds   that  an  Indian  meal  poultice,  covered  over  witli 


DOMESTIC    RECEIPTS.  167* 

young  hyson  tea,  softened  with  hot  water,  and  laid  over  bums  and 
frozen  flesh,  as  hot  as  it  can  be  borne,  will  relieve  the  pain  in  five 
minutes  ;  that,  if  blisters  have  not  arisen  before,  they  will  not  after  it 
is  put  on ;  and  that  one  poultice  is  generally  sufticient  to  effect  a 
cure. 

Consamption. 

The  following  is  said  to  be  an  effectual  remedy,  and  will  in  time 
completely  eradicate  the  disorder.  Live  temperately — avoid  spirit- 
uous liquors — wear  flannel  next  the  skin — and  take,  every  morning, 
half  a  pint  of  new  milk,  mixed  with  a  wine-glass  full  of  the  expressed 
juice  of  green  hoarhound.  One  who  has  tried  it  says  —  "Four 
weeks'  use  of  the  hoarhound  and  milk  relieved  the  pains  of  my 
breast^  gave  me  to  breathe  deep,  long,  and  free,  strengthened  and  hai-- 
monized  my  voice,  and  restored  me  to  a  better  state  of  health  than  I 
had  enjoyed  for  years,"  —  Albany  Daily  Advertiser. 

Edward  C.  Cooper,  a  gentleman  who  has  retired  from  medical 
practice,  gives,  in  the  N.  Y.  Commercial  Advertiser,  a  mode  of  treat- 
ment for  disease  of  the  lungs,  which,  in  an  experience  of  more  than 
twelve  years,  he  found  generally  effective  in  curing  consumptive  pa- 
tients. 

TKe  treatment,  says  he,  is  the  administration  of  sulphata  of  c^^r 
in  nauseating  doses,  combined  with  gum  ammoniac  ;  given  so  as  to 
nauseate,  but  not  ofdinarily  to  produce  full  vomiting :  the  usual  dose 
for  this  purjjose  is  about  half  a  grain  and  five  grains  of  the  respec- 
tive ingredients,  in  a  teaspoonful  of  water,  to  be  taken,  at  first  twice, 
and  in  the  convalescent  stages  once  a  day. 

In  cases  of  chronic  bronchitis,  a  gargle  of  the  sulphate  of  copper 
alone  is  superadded.  In  this  latter  form  of  consumption,  this  treat- 
ment almost  invariably  suspends  the  hectic  symptoms  in  a  few 
days,  and  the  disease  rapidly  advances  to  its  final  cure. 

In  cases  of  the  more  proper  forms  of  consumj)tion,  the  treatment 
must  be  intermitted  frequently,  and  again  returned  to ;  and  whenever 
soreness  of  the  chest,  or  other  symptoms  of  inflammatory  action 
exist,  the  treatment  should  be  suspended:  as  it  is  in  the  chronic  state 
alone  that  the  remedy  is  indicated  or  useful,  tliat  state  in  which  the 
condition  of  the  general  system  Is  sympathetically  involved,  becomes 
tlie  more  prominent  symjitom ;  and  the  success  of  the  treatment  de- 
pends chiefly  on  the  breaking  up  this  8yn)[)athetic  action  of  the  dis- 
eased lung  on  the  more  healthy  tone  of  the  stomach,  and  increasing 
its  digestive  powers,  and  likewise  causing,  during  nauseating  action, 
a  more  active  and  healthy  circulation  of  blood  through  the  lun<^.  Its 
curative  powers  are  more  immediately  attributed  to  these  effects  of 
its  action.  But,  theoiy  apart,  the  treatment  is  presented  based  on 
more  than  ten  years'  experience  of  its  curative  advantages  in  the 
proper  treatment  of  diseases  of  muco-purulent  and  piuoilent  expec- 
toration. —  Buffalo  Journal. 

Inflammations. 

A  lady,  from  actual  and  repeated  experiment;  has  found  that  con- 
centrated chlorate  of  soda  is  an   immediate  and  effectual  cure  for 


168  THE    FAMILY   VISITOR.-  ^ 

the  sting  of  bees,  mosquitoes,  &c. ;  for  bums,  (where  the  skin  is  not 
broken,)  ringworms,  and  other  like  inflammations.       " 

■■»■  Poison. 

As  a  check  to  the  rapid  progress  of  disorganization  and  death, 
generally  consequent  on  talcing  acrid  poison,  corrosive  sublimate,  ver- 
digris, or  any  salt  of  copper,  a  knowledge  of  the  fact,  that  the  white 
.  of  eggs  swallowed  very  frequently,  and  without  limitation  as  to 
quantity,  is  the  most  appropriate  remedy,  till  the  arrival  of  medical 
assistance,  cannot  be  ununportant  nor  too  generally  known. 

Sleigfh-Sickness. 

A  piece  of  fish-skin,  applied  to  the  pit  of  the  stomach,  is  said  to 
be  a  capital  cure  for  sleigh-sickness — that  indefinable  kind  of  faint- 
ness  and  sickness,  which  so  many  experience — more  particularly 
females — while  riding  in  a  sleigh. 

W-  Ringworms. 

After  I  had  the  tetter  nearly  twenty  years  on  my  hand,  and  had 
«  used  dollai-s'  worth  of  celebrated  tetter  ointment,  which  took  off  the 
skin  repeatedly  without  effecting  a  cure,  a  friend  advised  me  to  ob- 
taiBb^ome  blood-root,  (called  also  red-root,  Indian  paint,  &6.)  to 
slice  it  in  vinegar,  and  afterwards  wash  the  place  affected  with  the 
liquid.  I  did  so,  and  in  a  few  days  the  dry  scurf  was  removed,  and 
^,   '  my  diseased  hand  was  as  whole  as  the  other.  —  ^m.  Farmer. 

*'  '  Asthma. 

Make  a  strong  solution  of  saltpetre.  Dip  clean  paper  in  the  solu- 
tion until  it  is  well  saturated.  Diy  the  paper  in  the  sun  or  by  a  slow 
fire.  Cut  the  paper  thus  dried  into  strips,  and  burn  them  in  a  vessel, 
so  that  the  asthmatic  may  breathe  in,  or  inhale,  as  much  of  the 
smoke  as  possible. 

Make  cigars  of  the  paper,  if  you  choose,  and  smoke  them.  This 
is  the  most  agreeable  method  of  application. 

Cure  for  Cough. 

Take  of  emulsion  of  gum  ammoniac,  8  oz. ;  sirup  of  balsam  tolu, 
d  oz. ;  sirup  of  squills,  i  oz. ;  wine  of  antimony,  i  oz. ;  paregor- 
ic, i  oz.  This  is  known  to  many  by  the  name  of  tchite  mixture. 
Half  the  above  quantity  is  sufficient  for  one  person.  Take  one  table- 
spoonful  at  night,  and  one  in  the  morning.    It  has  cured  thousands. 

Milk. 

This  aliment  has  been  placed  between  the  foods  of  the  vegetable 
kingdom  and  the  anunal ;  but,  though  an  animal  product,  chemical 
analysis  demonstrates  that  there  is  no  essential  difference  between 
it  and  the  fruit  of  the  almond — the  sweet  almond ;  the  latter  con- 
taining exactly  the  constituents  in  a  solid  form  which  compose  the 
former  in  a  fluid.  Almost  the  only  difference  between  them  is,  that 
milk  made  of  almonds  and  water  concretes  by  heat  alone,  whereas 
natural  milk  requires  rennet,  or  an  acid,  before  heat  will  coagulate 
it' "—  Dr.  IVeatherhead  on  Diseases  of  the  Luiigs. 


M. 


DOMESTIC    RECEIPTS.  J69 


Sago  Bread. 

This  light  and  nutritious  article,  for  invalids,  is  made  in  the  fol- 
lowing manner :  —  Two  lbs.  of  sago,  to  be  well  soaked  in  water,  or 
milk,  several  hours ;  mix  it  with  as  nmch  floiu- ;  add  saleratus  and 
good  yeast,  (a  little  Indian  meal,  if  liked;)  when  well  raised,  give  it 
a  handsome  bake.     It  is  delicious,  healthy,  and  cheap. 

Currant  Wine. 
Take  the  currants  when  perfectly  rijje,  (which  is  about  the  second 
or  third  week  in  July,)  mash  them  and  strain  the  liquid,  and  to 
e^ch  quart  thereof  take  three  quai-ts  of  clean  water,  and  three 
pounds  of  low-priced  sugar.  Put  the  currant  juice  first  into  the 
keg,  which  must  be  jjcrtectly  clean  and  sweet ;  mix  the  sugar  and 
water  m  a  tub,  and  alter  the  former  is  well  dissolved,  fill  the  keg 
therewitli.  The  proportions  of  each  should  be  taken  to  fill  what- 
ever vessel  may  be  used,  as  in  that  case  all  the  filth  which  may  re- 
main from  the  currants  and  sugar  will  work  out  of  the  bung-hole. 
The  keg  should  be  put  in  a  dark,  cool  place,  to  prevent  it  from  being 
disturbed  and  the  flies  gathering.  When  the  fermentation  is  over, 
close  the  keg  up,  and  let  it  remain  thus  for  several  months,  when  it  ^ 
may  be  racked,  the  keg  cleansed,  and  the  wine  put  in  again. — 
Franklin  Repository.  ^ 

Natritions  Matter  in  Food. 

The  nutritious  matter,  contained  in  100  lbs.  of  the  following  arti- 
cles, is  from  the  works  of  Percy,  Vaquelin,  and  other  distinguished 
analytical  chemists. 

•lbs. 

Rye, from  70  to  75 

Indian  Corn, "    65  to  70 

Butcher's  Meat,  (average,). . .  .35 

Potatoes, .25 

Keets, 16 

Carrots, 14 

Turnips,  Cabbages,  &c 6  to  8 


lbs. 

Rice, 95 

Lentiles,  (a  kind  of  half  pea,)^94 

Peas, 93 

French  Beans, 92 

Broad  Kidney  Bean, 89 

Wheat, from  80  to  85 

Barley, "     75  to  80 

Sngar  from  Potatoes. 

A  detail  of  the  process  of  making  sugar  from  potatoes  is  given  in 
Sillitnan's  Journal.     It  is  there  said  that 

"A  bushel  of  potatoes  weighs  about  sixty  pounds,  and  gives 
eight  pounds  of  pure,  fine,  dry  starch.  This  amount  of  starch  will 
make  five  pints  of  sugar,  of  the  weight  of  nearly  twelve  pounds  to 
the  gallon,  equal  to  seven  pounds  and  a  half  to  the  bushel  of  pota- 
toes, or  a  little  less  than  a  pound  of  sugar  to  the  pound  of  starch. 
The  sugar  is  not  as  sweet  as  the  Muscovado  sugar,  nor  is  it  actually 
as  sweet  as  its  taste  would  indicate. 

"This  Bugfur  may  be  used  for  all  kinds  of  domestic  purposes.  It 
ferments  with  great  liveliness  and  spirit,  when  made  into  beer, 
yielding  a  healrliful  and  delicious  bevenigo.  It  would,  however,  l>e 
most  useful  in  making  sweetmeats,  and  may  be  used  upon  the  table 
in  lieu  of  bonev,  for  which  it  is  a  good  substitute." 
15 


170^  THE    FAMILY    VISITOR. 


Good  Housekeepers.  .     ^» , 

If  there  be  any  thing  among  the  temporals  to  make  life  pleasant? 
it  is  in  the  walls  of  a  well-ordered  house  — Avhere  all  is  adjusted  to 
please  —  not  by  its  finery  or  costliness,  but  by  its  fineness,  its  air  of 
neatness  and  content,  which  invite  all  who  enter  to  taste  its  comforts. 
The  woman  who  does  not  make  this  a  grand  item  in  all  her  routine 
of  duties,  has  not  yet  learned  the  true  dignity  of  her  station  —  has 
not  yet  learned  tlie  Alpha  of  that  long  alphabet  which  is  set  before 
her ;  and  she  who  despises  this  noble  attainment,  despises  her  best 
worldly  good,  and  indirectly  despises  her  family,  her  neighbors,  and 
the  word  of  God.  "  She  looketh  well  to  the  ways  of  her  house- 
hold," was  spoken  by  tlie  wisest  man  that  ever  lived,  and  will  be 
told  as  a  memorial  to  all  those  who  have  been  eminent  for  this  noble 
quality. 

Mortar. 

Much  of  the  mortar  used  in  building,  is  said  to  be  impei-fectly 
made.  Four  parts  coarse,  and  three  parts  fine  sand,  with  one  part 
of  quick-lime,  well  mixed  with  but  little  water,  makes  mortar  which 
,  soon  becomes  as  hard  as  adamant ;  resisting  all  atmospheric  action, 
as  durably  as  the  material  it  unites ;  and  with  the  addition  of  a  por- 
tion, of  manganese,  it  will  harden  under  water. — JVewburyport 
Herald. 

Use  of  Lime. 

Lockhart,  in  his  Life  of  Sir  Walter  Scott,  relates  the  following 
anecdote :  — 

"  There,  see,"  he  continued,  « that  farm  there,  at  the  foot  of  the 
hill,  is  occupied  by  a  respectable  enough  tenant  of  mine.  I  told 
him  I  had  a  great  desu-e  for  him  to  try  the  eflfect  of  lime  on  his  land. 
He  said  he  doubted  its  success,  and  could  not  venture  to  risk  so 
much  money  as  it  would  cost.  'Well,'  said  I,  'fair  enough  ;  but  as  I 
wish  to  have  the  experiment  tried,  you  shall  have  the  lime  for  the 
mere  carting ;  you  may  send  to  the  place  where  it  is  to  be  bought, 
and,  at  the  term-day,  you  shall  strike  off  the  whole  value  of  the  lime 
from  the  rent  due  to  me.'  When  the  pay-day  came,  my  friend  the 
farmer  came  with  his  whole  rent,  which  he  laid  down  on  the  table 
before  me,  without  deduction.  'How's  this,  my  man?  you  are  to 
deduct  for  the  lime,  you  know.'  '  Why,  Sir  Walter,'  he  replied, 
'my  conscience  will  not  let  me  impose  upon  you  so  far;  the  lime 
you  recommended  me  to  ti-y,  and  which  but  for  your  suggestion  I 
would  never  have  tried,  has  produced  more  than  would  have  pur- 
chased the  lime  half  a  dozen  times  over,  and  I  cannot  think  of 
making  a  deduction.' " 

Dntch  Butter. 

Large  quantities  of  butter  are  annually  imported  into  England 
from  Holland,  and  some  from  the  same  country  has  occasionally 
found  its  way  into  this.  It  is  justly  celebrated  for  its  superior 
quality,  and  its  power  of  resisting  decomposition,  or  its  not  being 
liable  to  become  rancid.    In  the  Holland  dairies,  every  thing  is  con- 


4  DOMESTIC    RECEIPTS.  171 

ducted  with  a' system  and  neatness,  from  the  feeding  of  the^cows  to 
the  completion  of  the  butter,  wortliy  of  all  imitation  and  praise. 
That  there  is  any  thing  in  the  climate  or  pastures  of  Holland  that 
renders  their  dauy  products  superior  to  those  of  the  rest  of  Europe, 
*or  to  ours,  is  not  to  be  supposed ;  the  difference  is  clearly  in  the 
manipulation ;  and  were  our  butter  and  cheese  in  general  made 
with  as  much  skill  and  care  as  in  Holland,  we  might  successfully 
compete  with  the  Dutch  in  the  West  Indies  and  other  markets,  to 
which  our  butter  will  now  barely  pay  the  cost  of  transportation. 
According  to  the  report  of  Mr.  Mitchel,  made  to  the  Highland 
Society  of  Scotland,  the  process  in  the  Dutch  dairies  is  substantially 
as  follows :  —  The  milk,  when  taken  from  the  cow,  is  poured  into 
large  earthen  pitchers,  and  placed  in  a  vat  of  cold  water,  which 
quickly  reduces  the  temperature.  It  is  then  placed  on  shelves  until 
the  cream  separates,  when  it  is  taken  off  and  placed  in  vessels  tor 
churning.  In  these  it  is  first  allowed  to  become  a  little  soured,  and 
then  the  churn  is  half  filled  with  the  cream.  Li  the  best  dairies, 
churning  is  performed  daily,  the  system  being  so  arranged,  that  a 
supply  is  constantly  in  readiness.  In  winter,  a  little  boiled  warm 
water  is  added  to  the  cream,  to  give  the  proper  temperatm-e  previ- 
ous to  churning ;  and  in  very  warm  weather,  it  is  sometimes  sub- 
mitted to  the  cold  bath  to  reduce  the  heat  The  butter,  when  taken 
from  the  chum,  is  put  in  a  shallow  vessel,  and  carefully  washed 
with  pure,  cold  water,  and  then  worked  with  a  slight  sprinkling  of 
fine  salt,  whether  intended  for  rolls  or  for  barreling.  The  butter  is 
considered  best  when  the  cows  have  been  at  grass  about  three 
weeks ;  it  is  then  delicious  —  is  made  into  fanciful  forms  of  animals, 
pyramids,  fitc,  and  stuck  over  with  fragrant  flowers,  and  sells  as 
high  as  sixty  or  seventy  cents  per  pound.  When  intended  for 
packing,  the  butter  is  worked  up  twice  or  thrice  a  day,  with  soft, 
fine  salt,  for  three  days,  in  a  shallow  tub ;  there  being  about  two 
pounds  of  this  salt  used  for  fourteen  pounds  of  butter.  After  this 
thorough  preparatory  working,  the  butter  is  then  hard  packed,  in 
thin  layers,  into  casks  made  perfectly  sweet  and  clean.  The  wood 
preferred  is  oak,  smoothed  carefully  inside.  Three  or  four  days 
before  they  are  used,  the  casks  are  filled  with  sour  whey ;  and  this 
stands  until  they  are  emptied  and  cleansed  for  the  packing  of  the  ■ 
butter.  It  is  clear,  from  this  description,  that,  independent  of  the 
perfect  neatness  observed  in  every  part  of  the  process,  the  excel- 
lence of  the  Dutch  butter,  and  the  ease  with  which  it  is  kept  in  its 
original  sweetness  when  packed,  is  owing  to  the  manner  in  which 
it  is  freed  from  the  least  particle  of  buttermilk,  by  the  first  washing, 
and  the  subsequent  repeated  workings,  as  well  as  to  the  perfect  in- 
corporation of  the  salt  by  the  same  process.  There  are  many  of 
our  American  dairies  that  produce  superior  butter ;  but  as  a  whole, 
that  offered  in  our  markets  is  a  miserable  article,  destitute  of  that 
rich  flavor  Ijelonging  to  good  butter,  and,  owing  to  the  great  amount 
of  buttermilk  leu  in  it,  utterly  unfit  for  keeping.  We  believe  a  re- 
form, in  these  respects,  would  add  materially  to  the  profit  of  those 
who  should  attempt  it,  as  well  as  add  greatly"  to  the  comfort  of  the 
great  mass  of  purchasers  and  consumers.  —  Genesee  Farmer. 


172  THE    FAMILY    VISITOR. 

Tar  for  Shee^. 

A  gentleman,  who  keeps  a  large  flock  of  sKeep,  says  that,  during 
the  season  of  grazing,  he  gives  his  sheep  tar,  at  the  rate  of  a  gill  a 
day  for  every  twenty  sheep.  He  puts  the  tai*  in  a  trough,  sprinkles 
a  little  fine  salt  over  it,  and  the  sheep  consume  it  with  eagerness. 
This  preserves  them  from  worms  in  the  head,  promotes  their  gen- 
eral health,  and  is  thought  to  be  a  specific  against  the  I'ot. 

To  remove  Spots  of  Grease,  Pitch,  or  Oil  from  Woollen  Cloth. 

In  a  pint  of  spring  water  dissolve  an  ounce  of  pure  pearlash, 
adding  to  the  solution  a  lemon  cut  in  small  slices.  This  being 
properly  mixed,  and  kept  in  a  warm  state  for  two  days,  the  whole 
must  be  strained  and  kept  in  a  bottle  for  use.  A  little  of  this  liquid, 
poured  on  the  stained  part,  is  said  instantaneously  to  remove  all 
spots  of  grease,  pitch,  or  oils ;  and  the  moment  they  disappear,  the 
cloth  is  to  be  washed  in  clear  water.  —  Glasgow  Mechanics^  Mag. 

To  take"  Grease  out  of  Silk. 
If  a  little  powdered  magnesia  be  applied  on  the  wrong  side  of  silk, 
where  the  spot  is  discovered,  it  is  a  never-failing  remedy ;  the  dark 
spots  disappearing  as  if  by  magic. 

To  prevent  Smut  in  Wheat. 

Dissolve  two  ounces  of  blue  vitriol  in  one  quart  of  water,  and 
api)ly  this  to  eveiy  bushel  of  seed  wheat  at  least  twenty-four  hours 
previous  to  sowing.    The  application  has  never  been  known  to  feil. 

Mode  of  securing  Timber  from  Decay. 

Timber  for  buildings,  especially  for  ships,  bridges,  canals,  gran- 
aries and  stables,  may  be  effectually  preserved  from  decay,  and 
particularly  from  the  rot,  by  repeatedly  unpregnating  the  wood  with 
a  solution  of  common  salt  and  green  copperas.  This  simple  process 
is  atlQaded  with  such  decided  advantage,  that  wood,  thus  prepared, 
will  remain  for  ages  perfectly  sound. 

Wood  impregnated  with  alum,  salt,  or  copperas,  is  also  rendered, 
in  a  great  degree,  incombustible  as  well  as  incorruptible.  When 
thus  prepared,  it  may  be  charred  or  consumed  by  intense  heat,  but 
can  scarcely  be  made  to  blaze,  and  of  course  would  not  readily  couj- 

k^  muiiicate  fire  to  other  objects  in  its  vicinity.  —  Farmer's  Monthly 

^^  Visitor. 

General  Directions  for  making  Sweetmeats  and  Jellies. 

In  preparing  sugar  tor  sweetmeats,  let  it  be  entirely  dissolved 
before  you  put  it  on  the  fire.  If  you  dissolve  it  in  water,  allow  about 
half  a  pint  of  water  to  a  pound  of  sugar.  If  you  boil  the  sugar  before 
you  add  the  fruit  to  it,  it  will  be  improved  in  clearness  by  passing  it 
through  a  flannel  bag.  Skim  oft"  the  brown  scum,  all  the  time  it  is 
boiling.  If  sweetmeats  are  boiled  too  long,  they  will  lose  their  flavor 
and  become  of  a  dark  color.  If  boiled  too  short  a  time,  they  will  not 
keep  well.  You  may  ascertain  when  jelly  is  done,  by  dropping  a 
small  spoonful  in  a  glass  of  water.    If  it  sjiieads  and  mixes  "with 


1 


DOMESTIC    RECEIPTS.  173 

the  water,  it  requires  more  boiling.  If  it  sinks  in  a  lump  to  the  bot- 
tom it  is  suflicieatly  done.  This  trial  must  be  xnade  after  the  jelly  is 
cold.  Raspberry  jelly  requires  more  boiling  than  any  other  sort ; 
black  currant  jelly  less.  Keep  your  jellies,  &c.,  in  glass  jars,  or  in 
those  of  white  queensware. 

To  make  Currant  Jelly. 

Pick  your  currants  very  carefully,  and  if  it  be  necessary  to  wash 
them,  be  sure  they  are  thoroughly  drained.  Place  them  in  a  stone 
jar,  well  covered,  in  a  pot  of  boiling  water.  When  cooked  soft, 
strain  them  through  a  coarse  cloth,  add  one  pound  of  fine  Havana 
sugar  to  each  pound  of  the  jelly  put  into  ajar,  and  cover  as  above. 
Or  you  may  break  your  currants  with  a  pestle  and  squeeze  them 
through  a  cloth.  Put  a  pint  of  clean  sugar  to  a  pint  of  juice,  and 
boil  it  very  slowly  till  it  becomes  ropy. 

This  is  an  excellent  article,  especially  in  sickness;  and  no  family 
need  or  ought  to  be  without  a  supply. 

Cherry  Jam. 

To  twelve  pounds  of  Kentish  or  duke  cherries,  when  ripe,  weigh 
one  pound  of  sugar ;  break  the  stones  of  part  and  blanch  them ; 
then  put  them  to  the  fruit  and  sugar,  and  boil  all  gently  till  the  jam 
comes  clear  from  the  pan.  Pour  it  into  China  plates  to  come  up 
dry  to  table.     Keep  in  boxes,  with  white  paper  between. 

Currant  Jam,  Black,  Red,  or  White. 

Let  the  fruit  be  very  ripe,  pick  it  clean  from  the  stalks,  bruise  it, 
and  to  every  pound  put  three  quarters  of  a  pound  of  loai"  sugar ;  stir 
it  well,  and  boil  half  an  hour. 

To  preserve  Raspberries. 

Pick  your  raspberries  in  a  dry  day,  just  before  they  are  fully  ripe  ; 
lay  them  on  a  dish,  beat  and  sift  their  weight  of  fine  sugar,  and 
strow  it  over  them.     To  every  quart  of  raspberries,  take  a  quart  of, 
red  currant  jelly,  and  put  to  it  its  weight  of  fine  sugar;  boil  and  skimi 
it  well,  then  put  in    your  raspberries,  and  give  them  a  scald.     Tak«r 
them  oft"  and  let  them  stand  over  two  hours ;   then  set  them  oi  ' 
again,  and  scald  until  they  look  clear. 

Grape  Jelly.  i*r    ^ 

Pick  the  grapes  fi-om  the  stems,  wash  and  drain  them.  Mash 
them  with  a  spoon.  Put  them  in  the  preserving  kettle  and  cover 
them  with  a  large  plate ;  boil  them  ten  minutes ;  then  pour  them 
into  your  jelly-bag  and  squeeze  out  the  juice.  Allow  a  pint  of  juice 
to  a  pound  of  sugar.  Put  the  sugar  and  juice  into  the  kettle,  and 
boil  twenty  minutes,  skimming  them  well.  Fill  your  glasses  wliile 
the  jelly  is  yiaitn,  and  tie  tiiem  up  with  papers  dipped  in  brandy. 

To  dry  Cherries. 

To   every  five  pounds  of  cherries,  stoned,   weigh  one  of  sugar 
douUe  refined.     Put  the  fruit  into  the  preserving-pan  with  very 
15* 


174  THE    FAMILY   VISITOR. 

little  water;  make  both  scalding  hot;  take  the  fhiit  out,  and 
immediately  dry  them ;  put  them  into  the  pan  again,  strewing 
the  sugar  between  each  layer  of  cherries ;  let  it  stand  to  melt ; 
then  set  the  pan  on  the  fire,  and  make  it  scalding  hot,  as  before ; 
take  it  ofl^  and  repeat  this  thrice  with  the  sugar.  Drain  them 
from  the  sirup,  and  lay  them  singly  to  dry  on  dishes  in  the  sun  or 
on  the  stove.  When  dry,  put  them  into  a  sieve,  dip  it  into  a  pan  of 
cold  water,  and  draw  it  instantly  out  again,  and  pour  them  on  a  fine, 
soft  cloth ;  dry  them,  and  set  them  once  more  in  the  hot  sun,  or 
on  a  stove.  Keep  them  in  a  box,  with  layers  of  white  paper,  in  a 
dry  place.  This  way  is  the  best  to  give  plumpness  to  the  fruit,  as 
well  as  color  and  flavor. 

Peach  Jelly. 

Wipe  the  wool  well  off  your  peaches,  which  should  be  free  of 
stones,  and  not  too  ripe,  and  cut  them  in  quarters.  Crack  the  stones 
and  break  the  kernels  small.  Put  the  peaches  and  kernels  into  a 
covered  jar,  set  them  in  boiling  water,  and  let  them  boil  till  they  ai-e 
soft.  Strain  them  through  a  jelly-bag  until  all  the  juice  is  sqaeezed 
out.  Allow  a  pint  of  loaf-sugar  to  a  pint  of  juice.  Put  the  sugar 
and  juice  into  a  presei*ving-kettle,  and  boil  them  twenty  minutes, 
skimming  them  cai-efully.  Put  the  jelly  wai-m  into  glasses,  and 
when  cold,  tie  them  up  with  brandied  papers.  [Plum  and  green- 
gage jelly  may  be  made  in  the  same  manner  with  the  kernels,  which 
.greatly  improve  the  flavor.] 

Gooseberry  Jelly. 

Cut  the  gooseberries  in  half  j  —  they  must  be  green,  —  and  put  them 
into  a  jar  closely  covered.  Set  the  jar  in  an  oven  or  pot  filled  with 
boiling  water.  Keep  the  water  boiling  round  the  jar,  till  the  goose- 
berries are  soft ;  take  them  out,  mash  them  with  a  spoon,  and  put 
tiiem  into  a  jelly-bag  to  drain.  When  all  the  juice  is  squeezed  out, 
measure  it,  and  to  a  pint  of  juice  allow  a  pint  of  loaf-sugar.  Put 
the  jliice  and  sugar  into  the  i)resei'ving-kettle,  and  boil  them  twenty 
minutes,  skimming  them  well.  Then  put  the  jelly  warm  into  glasses 
closely  covered  with  brandied  papers.  [Cranberry  jelly  is  made  in 
the  same  manner.] 

To  preserve  Pears,  Plums,  Damsons,  &c.,  for  Tarts  and  Pies. 

€rather  them  when  full  grown  and  just  as  they  begin  to  turn. 
Pick  one  third  of  the  largest  out  and  put  to  tiiem  as  much  water  as 
will  cover  thejn  ;  boil  and  skim  them.  Wlien  the  fruit  is  boiled  soft, 
strain  it  through  a  coarse  seive,  and  to  every  quai"t  of'tliis  liquor  put 
a  pound  and  a  half  of  sugar ;  boil  and  skim  it,  and  then  throw  in 
your  fruit ;  just  give  them  a  scald,  take  them  oft'  the  fire,  and,  when 
cold,  put  them  into  bottles  with  wide  mouths,  pour  your  sirup  over 
them,  lay  a  piece  of  white  paper  dipped  in  sweet  oil  over  them,  and 
cover  tight.  • 

The  editor  of  the  Yankee  Farmer,  who  ought  to  be  good  authority 
on  such  subjects,  says  —  "The  following  is  an  easy  and  wholesome 
method  to  make  presei-ves  and  jellies  without  using  brass  or  tip,  or 


DOMESTIC    RECEIPTS.  ^»n«- 

any  other  poisonous  utensil.  CuiTants,  strawberries,  blackberries, 
raspberries,  cranberries,  or  damsons,  may  be  preserved  in  tlie  same 
way. 

To  make  Jelly. 
Take  a  peck  of  currants  on  the  stem  or  strmgs,  wash  them 
thoroughly,  and  let  them  set  in  a  large  wooden  bowl  or  tray  to 
drain ;  next  day,  put  them  on  common  dimier  plates,  and  set  them 
in  the  oven  as  soon  as  the  flour  bread  is  taken  out ;  in  an  hour  or 
two  they  will  be  scalded  through  ;  take  them  out  and  separate  the 
juice  from  the  skins  and  seeds  by  straiomg  them  through  a  clean, 
coarse  cloth,  then  return  the  juice  into  me  plates,  and  set  them  im- 
mediately into  tlxe  oven  to  dry  away.  Have  as  many  plates  as  the 
oven  will  hold,  for  the  smaller  the  quantity  of  juice  on  a  plate  the 
sooner  it  will  be  thick  enough  to  add  the  sugar.  Let  the  juice  dry 
away  until  it  is  about  as  thick  as  molasses,  which  perhaps  will  not 
be  till  the  oven  is  cold.  When  the  juice  is  sufficiently  thick,  put  it 
into  a  large  pitcher,  and  add  as  many  pounds  of  sugar  as  you  had 
of  currant  juice  before  it  was  dried  away ;  then  set  the  pitcher  into 
an  iron  dmner  pot,  with  water  enough  to  reach  half  way  up  the 

{)itcher ;  cover  the  pitcher  with  a  saucer,  and  the  pot  with  the  pot- 
id  or  cover ;  put  it  over  the  fire,  and  let  it  boil  till  the  jelly  is 
thoroughly  scalded ;  it  must  be  taken  off"  the  fire  two  or  three  times, 
and  stirred  with  a  large  silver  spoon  or  clean  wooden  stick ;  wiien 
thoroughly  scalded,  take  it  off,  and  when  it  is  cold,  cover  it  close 
and  keep  it  in  a  dry,  cool  place. 

To  prepare  Preserves. 

Wash  the  fruit  and  let  it  drain  dry;  then  set  it  on  plates  io  a 
pretty  warm  oven,  (after  the  flour  bread  is  drawn  out  it  will  be  about 
the  right  heat ;)  let  it  set  about  an  hour  or  two,  so  as  to  be  scalded 
through ;  take  it  out  and  pour  it  off,  and  return  the  juice  to  the  oven 
to  dry  away ;  when  it  is  as  thick  as  molasses,  add  it  to  the  ii-uit  from 
which  it  was  taken,  and  put  it  into  a  stone  or  earthen  preserving- 
pot  ;  add  as  many  pounds  of  sugar  as  you  had  of  fruit  before  it  was 
put  into  the  oven,  then  place  the  pot  in  a  kettle  of  water,  cover  the 
pot  with  a  plate,  and  set  the  water  a  boiling ;  after  they  are  well 
scalded,  take  them  ofl^  and  set  them  in  a  dry,  cool  place.  They  may 
be  made  with  molasses  instead  of  sugar,  only  the  molasses  huist  be 
boiled  till  it  is  as  thick  as  it  can  be,  or  as  thick  as  you  would  boil  it 
for  candy. 

Blackberry  Sirup. 

We  are  indebted  to  a  friend  for  the  following  receipt  for  making 
blackberry  sirup.  Th|8  sirup  is  said  to  be  alraiQst  a  specific  for 
the  summer  complaint.  In  1832,  it  was  successful  in  more  than  one 
case  of  cholera.  —  To  two  quarts  of  juice  of  blackberries,  add  one 
pound  loaf-sugar,  half  an  ounce  of  nutmegs,  half  an  ounce  of  cinna- 
mon, pulverized,  half  an  ounce  of  cloves,  quarter  of  an  ounce  of 
allspice,  pulverized.  Boil  all  together  for  a  short  time,  and,  when 
cold,  add  a  pint  of  fourth  proof  brandy.  From  a  tea-spoonfljl  to  a 
wine-glass,  according  to  the  age  of  the  patient,  till  relieved,  is  to  be 
given.  —  Farmer's  Cabinet. 


176  >  THE    FAMILY    VISITOR. 

Rhubarb  Pies. 

Gather  a  bundle  of  the  leaf-stocks  of  sufficient  quantity ;  cut  off 
the  leaf  and  peal  the  stock  of  the  thin  epidermis ;  cut  in  quarter- 
inch  pieces,  and  lay  them  into  the  crust ;  cover  we\l  with  sugar,  and 
add  nutmeg,  orange-peal  and  spice  to  taste.  The  flavor  is  equal, 
and  many  deem  it  preferahle,  to  gooseberries.  The  pie-plant  is 
perennial,  herbaceous,  and  very  hardy.  A  dozen  plants  will  afford 
a  family  a  constant  supply. 

Sugar. 

This  is  the  most  nourishing  substance  in  nature.  It  affords  more 
nutriment  than  rice.  It  enters  into  the  composition  of  most  vege- 
tables, and  abounds  in  the  beet,  melon,  apple,  and  others  which  are 
the  most  palatable.  It  seems  requisite  for  the  sustenance  of  animal 
life,  and  sailors  who  are  compelled  to  subsist  only  on  salted  meats, 
without  vegetables,  are  aflJicted  with  disease.  Crews  of  vessels  have 
subsisted  on  it,  during  times  of  scarcity,  and  in  such  cases  it  has 
cured  the  scurvy.  The  first  settlers  of  this  country,  in  order  to  ob- 
tain it,  used  to  boil  up  the  chips  of  the  walnut  trees,  which  they 
had  cut  down.  The  Indians,  on  their  long  journeys,  prefer  it  to 
any  other  food,  because  it  will  not  corrupt,  and  they  mix  it  liberally 
with  their  powdered  Indian  corn.  The  juice  of  the  sugar-cane  is  so 
pleasant,  healthy,  and  nourishing,  that  all  persons  in  the  south  em- 
ploy it.  The  healthy  negroes  become  robust,  and  the  feeble  recover 
their  health  by  its  use.  Cattle,  to  whom  the  tops  are  given,  grow 
fat ;  horses  thrive  upon  it,  and  are  said  to  be  fond  of  it ;  while  pigs 
and  poultiy  fatten  on  the  refuse.  It  is  said  that  the  plague  has 
never  appeared  in  those  countries  where  it  is  most  used.  It  is  of 
^reat  use  to  correct  the  acidity  and  acerbity  of  other  articles  of 
tood.  It  should  be  ubed  with  tea,  especially  by  the  nervous,  the 
weakly,  and  sedentary,  to  prevent  its  deleterious  effects.  Loaf- 
sugar,  the  finest  of  sugars,  is  frequently  ordered  by  physicians,  as  a 
nutritious  substance ;  and  we  have  known  individuals,  who,  like 
Cassius,  had  a  lean  and  hungry  look,  to  correct  their  habits  by  the 
use  of  sweet  articles,  and  become  corjjulent  and  healthy.  —  American 
Traveller. 

.  To  prevent  Horses  being  teased  by  Flies. 

Take  two  or  three  small  handfuls  of  walnut  leaves,  upon  which 
pour  two  or  three  quarts  of  cold  water ;  let  it  infuse  x>ne  night,  and 
pour  the  whole,  next  mornmg,  into  a  kettle,  and  let  it  boil  for  a 
quarter  of  an  hour ;  when  cold  it  will  be  fit  for  use.  No  more  is 
required  than  to  moisten  a  sponge,  and  before  the  horse  goes  out 
of  the  stable,  let  those  parts  which  are  most  irritable  be  smeared- 
over  with  the  liquor,  viz.,  between  and  upon  the  ears,  the  neck,  the 
flank,  &c.  Not  only  the  lady  or  gentleman  who  rides  out  for 
pleasure,  will  derive  benefit  from  the  walnut  leaves  thus  prepared, 
but  the  coachman,  the  wagoner,  and  all  others  who  use  horses 
during  the  hot  mouths.  —  Farmer's  Receipt  Book. 


DOMESTIC   RECEIPTS. 


17^ 


liiniment  for  the  galled  Backs  of  Horses. 

White  lead  moistened  with  milk.  When  milk  is  not  to  be  pro- 
cured, oil  may  be  substituted.  "  One  or  two  ounces  sufficed  for  a 
whole  party  for  more  than  a  month."  —  JV.  H.  Keating. 

Bots  in  Horses. 

Th^  stage-drivers  on  their  routes  leading  from  Albany  to  the 
western  parts  of  the  state  of  New  York,  in  giving  water  to  their 
horses  on  tlie  road,  mix  a  little  wood  ash^  with  their  drink,  which, 
they  say,  effectually  preserves  them  against  the  bots. 

Sprace  Beer. 

Take  three  gallons  of  water,  of  blood  warmth,  three  half  pints  of 
molasses,  a  table  spoonful  of  essence  of  spruce,  and  the  like  quan- 
tity of  ginger  ;  mix  well  together,  with  a  gill  of  yeast ;  let  stand  over 
night,  and  bottle  in  the  mormng.  It  will  be  in  good  condition  to 
dnnk  in  twenty-four  hours.     It  is  a  palatable,  wholesome  beverage. 

Flies. 

The  butchers  of  Gfeneva  have,  from  time  immemorial,  prevented 
flies  from  approaching  the  meat  which  tliey  expose  for  sale,  by  the 
use  of  laurel  oil.  This  oil,  the  smell  of  which,  although  a  little 
strong,  is  not  very  offensive,  drives  away  flies ;  and  they  dare  not 
come  near  the  walls  or  the  wainscots  which  have  been  rubbed 
with  it. 

Hay. 

In  Russia  it  is  usual  to  preserve  the  natural  verdure  of  hay.";;^s 
soon  as  the  grass  is  cut,  it  is,  without  having  been  spread,  lortned 
into  a  ri^k,  in  the  centre  of  which  has  been  previously  placed  a 
kind  of  chimney,  made  of  four  rough  planks.  It  seems  that  the 
heat  of  the  fermentation  evaporates  by  this  chimney  ;  and  that  the 
hay  thus  retains  all  its  leaves,  its  color,  and  its  primitive  flavor. 

Fattening  Tnrkeys. 

Experiments  have  been  successfully  tried  of  shutting  up  turkeys 
in  a  small  apartment,  made  perfectly  dark.  They  we*e  fattened,  it 
is  said,  in  one  qujuter  of  the  usual  time.  The  reason  assigned  is, 
\hat  they  are  thus  kejit  still,  and  have  nothing  to  attract  then* 
attention. 

Easy  Mode  of  edging  Razors. 

On  the  rough  side  of  a  strap  of  leather,  or  on  an  undressed  calf- 
skin binding  of  a  book,  rub  a  piece  of  tin,  or  common  pewter  spoon, 
for  half  a  minute,  or  until  the  leather  becomes  glossy  with  the  metal. 
If  the  razor  be  passed  over  this  leather  about  half  a  dozen  times, 
^   it  will  acquire  a  finer  edge  than  by  any  other  method.  —  Mechanics^ 


f  ^J^agazintJ^ 

Saw-d 
said  to  fa 
blasting. 


Blasting  Rocks. 

Saw-dust  of  soft  wood,  mixed  with  gunpowder  in  equal  parts,  is 
said  to  have  thrice  the  strength  of  gunpowder  alone  when  used  in 


178  THE    FAMILY    VISITOR. 

Cure  for  Founder. 

♦•The  seeds  of  sun-flower,"  says  the  Zanesville  Gazette,  "are  the 
best  remedy  known  for  the  cure  of  founder  in  horses.  Immediately 
on  discovering  that  your  horse  is  foundered,  mix  about  a  pint  of  the 
wliole  seed  in  his  feed,  and  it  will  give  a  perfect  cure."  The  seed 
■  should  be  given  as  soon  as  it  is  discovered  that  the  horse  is  foun- 
dered. 

Boil  yonr  Molasses. 

When  molasses  is  used  in  cooking,  it  is  a  very  great  improvement 

to  boil  and  skim  it  before  you  use  it.     It  takes  out  the  unpleasant 

raw  taste,  and  makes  it  almost  as  good  as  sugar.     Where  molasses 

is  used  much  for  cooking,  it  is  well  to  prepare  one  or  two  gallons  in 

ithis  way  at  a  time. 

Candles. 

Those  who  make  candles  will  find  it  a  great  improvement  to 
steep  the  wicks  in  lime-water  and  saltpetre,  and  dry  them.  The 
flame  is  clearer,  and  the  tallow  will  not  "  run." 

Pennsylvania  Apple  Butter. 

To  make  this  article  according  to  German  law,  the  host  should,  in 
the  autumn,  invite  his  neighbors,  particularly  the  young  men  and 
maidens,  to  make  up  an  apple  butter  pai-ty.  —  Being  assembled,  let 
three  bushels  of  fair  sweet  apples  be  pared,  quaitered,  and  the  cores 
removed.  Meanwliile,  let  two  barrels  of  new  cider  be  boiled  down 
to  one  half.  When  this  is  done,  commit  the  prepared  apples  to  the 
cider,  and  henceforth  let  the  boiling  go  on  briskly  and  systematically. 
But  to  accomplish  the  main  design,  the  party  must  take  turns  at  stir- 
ring the  contents  without  cessation,  that  they  do  not  become  attached 
to  the  side  of  the  kettle  and  be  burned.  Let  the  stirring  go  on  till 
the  amalgamated  cider  and  apples  become  as  thick  as  hasty-pudding 
—  then  throw  in  seasoning  of  pulverized  allspice,  when  it  may  be 
considered  as  finished,  and  committed  to  pots  for  future  use.  This 
is  apple  butter ;  and  it  will  keep  sweet  for  very  many  years.  And 
depend  upon  it,  it  is  a  capital  article  for  the  table  —  very  much  supe- 
rior to  any  thing  that  comes  under  the  name  of  apple-sauce. — 
Gospel  Banner. 

Pies. 

Apple  pies  may  be  made  simple,  palatable,  and  healthy,  by  sifting 
coarse  flour,  and  taking  hot  mealy  potatoes,  and  rubbing  them  in  as 
you  would  butter;  then  take  pearlash,  and  sour  milk,  or  water,  and 
wet  it,  rolling  the  crust,  if  you  please,  in  fine  flour,  if  you  wish  to 
give  it  a  whiteness;  prepare  your  apple  without  butter  or  spice,  with 
sweetening,  and  a  little  oil  of  orange.  —  Graham  Journal. 

"Water  Crackers. 

Wheat  meal,  wet  with  nothing  but  water,  and  pulled  apart  with 
the  hand,  or  cut  in  pieces  and  rolled  as  thin  as  possible,  and  well 
baked,  makes  the  healthiest  bread  for  the  stomach  that  can  be  eaten. 


DOMESTIC    RECEIPTS.  179 

It  is  a  good  digester  and  palatable  dessert    It  acts  like  an  absorbent,         ^. 
when  any  thing  like  acid  is  in  the  stomach.  —  Graham  Journal. 

Bread-Making.  . 

For  the  sponge,  take  one  quart  of  water,  blood  warm,  or  about 
100°  F  ;  add  one  tea-spoonful  of  salt,  stir  in  coarse  wheat  meal  till 
it  becomes  a  thick  batter ;  then,  if  it  is  kept  at  about  a  temperature  of 
80  or  90°,  it  will  ferment  sutKciently  in  from  four  to  six  hours ;  or,  if 
prepared  in  the  ^ening,  let  it  remain  at  about  60°  till  morning ;  then 
add  two  or  three  quarts  of  warm  water,  with  a  suitable  proportion  of 
the  wheat  meal ;  mould  it  in  pans,  and  in  about  one  hour  it  will  rise 
sufficiently  for  the  oven.  In  this  way,  with  proper  care  and  expe- 
rience, the  best  of  bread  may  be  made  without  any  pearlash,  yeast, 
molasses,  or  milk.  Some  use  a  very  little  saleratus  to  prevent  all 
acidity  in  the  bread  ;  but  that  had  better  be  avoided  by  having  the 
dough  in  the  oven  before  the  fermentation  proceeds  too  far.—. 
Graham  Journal. 

Rice  Cnstard. 

Take  two  or  three  quarts  of  milk,  and  when  boiling  sifl  in  a 
coffee-cup  of  ground  rice,  taking  care  to  stir  it  while  sifting;  boil  it 
a  kvr  minutes,  sweeten  it  with  sugar,  bake  it  in  cups,  let  it  stand  till 
it  is  cold,  and  it  will  make  a  custard  as  good  as  any  one  need  de- 
sire. It  cannot  be  improved,  either  for  the  stomach  or  for  the 
palate,  by  the  addition  of  eggs.  If  any  thing  is  added  to  "  give  a 
flavor,"  let  it  be  a  little  of  the  essence  of  rose  as  a  substitute  for  ail 
spices.  —  Graham  Journal.  i 

Bird's-Xest  Sago  Padding. 

Soak  half  a  pint  of  sago  in  three  pints  of  water,  stirring  it  occa- 
sionally until  it  is  uniformly  swelled.  Pare  and  core  ten  or  twelve 
ap]>les,  fill  the  holes  in  the  centre  with  sugar,  and  put  tliem,  without 
piling  them  one  over  another,  in  a  pudding-dish,  of  such  size  that 
the  sago  will  just  cover  them.  The  sago  may  then  be  poured  on 
and  the  pudding  baked  until  the  apples  are  soft.    It  may  be  made  i 

thicker  or  thinner  at  pleasure,  by  usmg  more  or  less  sago.  —  GraAam 
Journal. 

This  is  one  of  the  best  kind  of  puddings  in  the  world.  Try  it, 
good  friends,  before  you  accuse  the  Grahamites  witli  living  on  saw- 
dust. 

Wounds  of  Cattle. 

The  most  aggrieved  woimds  of  domestic  animals  are  easily  cured 
with  a  portion  of  the  yolk  of  eggs  mixed  in  the  spirit  of  turpentine. 
The  part  affected  must  be  bathed  several  times  with  tlie  mixture, 
when  a  perfect  cure  will  be  eflected  in  forty-eight  hours. 

Exemption  from  Colds. 

Perhaps  the  most  fruitful  particular  source  of  consumption  is  the 
habit  of  taking  cold.     We  call  it  a  habit,  because  we  regard  it  as 


180  THE    FAMILY    VISITOR. 

such  entirely.  We  no  more  believe  it  necessary  for  people,  did 
they  obey  the  laws  of  Ciod  throughout,  to  be  perpetually  suffering, 
as  many  persons  are,  from  cold,  and  withal  laying  the  foundation  of 
other  diseases  still  more  troublesome,  —  not  to  say  dangerous  and 
fatal,  —  tlian  it  is  for  them  to  have  the  small-pox,  or  the  typhus 
fever. 

*-A  large  portion  of  our  consumptive  cases  are  either  excited  or 
aggravated  by  colds.  The  philosophy  of  taking  cold  is  but  little 
understood,  and  the  causes  of  this  frequent  but  unhappy  complaint 
for  the  most  part  overlooked.  It  is  sufficient,  perhaps,  to  say,  that 
whatever  gives  a  permanent  check  to  the  natural  perspiration,  may 
produce  those  effects  which  we  call  a  coltl,  or,  in  the  language  of  the 
books,  a  catarrh. 

This  permanent  check  may  be  accomplished  in  several  ways.  It 
may  be  induced  by  a  large  quantity  of  cold  drink  taken  suddenly, 
when  we  are  debilitated  by  fatigue  or  excess  of  heat ;  by  currents 
of  cooler  air  falling  upon  the  body,  when  in  a  veiy  wai'm  place  and 
inactive ;  by  similar  currents  falling  upon  a  part  of  the  body  for 
some  time  in  a  warm  room,  as  when  we  sit  by  a  raised  or  broken 
window ;  by  going  out  of  heated  rooms,  perhaps  fatigued,  into  the 
night  air,  especially  without  sufficient  covering ;  by  tlie  application 
of  cold,  though  it  should  not  be  inordinate,  after  we  have  been  long 
exposed  to  a  high  temperature  ;  and  by  cold  itself,  when  continued 
for  a  long  time,  as  in  travelling  too  long  in  a  stage-coach  during 
cold  weather,  sleeping  too  cold  during  the  night,  sitting  with  wet 
feet,  &c. 

To  avoid  taking  cold,  then,  we  must  avoid  these  and  the  other 
causes  which  lead  to  it.  But  we  may  do  something  more  than 
vierely  exert  ourselves  to  prevent  the  exciting  causes  of  cold ;  we 
may  harden  ourselves  against  its  effects,  so  that  these  exciting  causes 
will  not  operate.  To  tliis  end,  we  should  be  accustomed,  from  early 
infancy,  to  much  exposure  in  the  open  air,  at  all  seasons.  The 
practice  of  daily  sponging  the  chest  with  cold  water,  fresh  or  salt,  is 
also  of  great  value,  and  should  be  adopted  by  all  persons  of  deli- 
cate constitutions,  at  all  seasons  of  the  year.  Sponging  the  whole 
body  with  cold  water,  in  the  early  part  of  the  day,  particularly  at 
rising,  when  the  practice  is  followed  by  warmth,  increased  strength, 
and  a  keen  appetite,  is  still  better,  as  a  means  of  hardening  our- 
siilves,  than  loctil  bathings.  Cold,  when  so  applied  as  to  produce  the 
reaction  we  have  just  spoken  of,  is  a  powerfid  tonic  to  the  whole 
system  ;  and  whatever  in  this  way  gives  tone  to  the  whole  system, 
goes  so  far  towards  preventing  our  taking  cold,  or  suffering,  in  fact, 
from  disease  of  any  kind.  —  Library  of  Health. 

To  pres^ve  Green  Corn,  &c. 

Take  green  com,  either  on  the  eai',  or  carefully  shelled,  peas  and 
beans  in  pods,  and  dip  tl^era*in  boiling  water,  and  then  carefully  dry 
tliem  in  a  room  where  there  is  a  free  circulation  of  air.  Thus  pre- 
berved,  they  will  keep  until  winter,  and  retain  all  their  freshness  and 
agreeable  fiavor. 


DOMESTIC    RECEIPTS.  181 

^"'  To  cure  the  Swelling  of  the  Throat  in  Hogs. 
Take  of  molasses  one  half  pint,  and  a  table  spoonful  of  hog's 
lard;  to  this  add  of  brimstone  a  piece  an  inch  in  length;  melt  it  over 
the  fire,  and  when  cold,  or  in  a  liquid  state,  drench  the  hog  with  it ;  . 
and  nine  times  out  of  ten  it  will  be  found  to  have  the  desired  etfect.* 
—  Farmet's  Register.  ,^  -^ 

Soap  Sads  used  for  noarishing  Flowers. 
A  fair  correspondent  says,  "Recently  I  happened  to  gather  a 
beautiful  violet,  and  when  tired  of  admiring  it,  tossed  the  toy  aside, 
which,  partly  by  accident,  fell  into  a  box  full  of  soap-suds.  The  said 
violet  had  neither  joint  nor  root,  and  you  may  judge  of  my  surprise, 
when,  at  the  end  of  a  day  or  two,  I  found  it  growing.  From  this 
time  forward,  I  watched  it  narrowly,  and  now  find,  after  the  lapse 
of  a  fortnight,  a  goodly  plant,  with  several  buds  on  it  Thinking 
water  might  produce  the  same  effect,  I  placed  a  newly-cropped  vi- 
olet in  water  ;  but  it  withered  and  died  on  so  spare  a  diet.  By  way 
of  confirming  the  first  experiment,  I  have  since  placed  a  slip  of  a 
rose  tree  and  a  pink  in  suds  ;  and  both  ai-e  flourishing  in  great  vigor, 
in  my  dressing-room.  Siiould  this  accidental  discovery  prove  useful 
to  florists,  it  will  afford  me  sincere  pleasux-e." 

Cnre  for  Hydrophobia. 

Take  a  quantity  of  oyster-shells  and  burn  them  into  lime,  pulver- 
ize the  lime  till  it  becomes  an  impalpable  powder ;  take  three  table 
spoonfuls  of  this  powder,  and  beat  them  up  with  threi;  eggs ;  fry 
this  in  a  common  pan,  with  sweet  oil,  and  let  the  patient  eat  the  cake 
when  properly  baked,  in  the  morning,  fasting,  taking  care  to  take 
no  victuals,  nor  the  least  liquid  of  any  kind,  for  six  hours  after  the 
dose  has  been  taken.  Repeat  this  dose  for  three  mornings  succes- 
sively. 

This  remedy  has  been  used  among  the  French  Canadians  for  many 
years ;  it  is  prescribed  frequently,  and  no  instance  of  its  failure  is 
known,  unless  in  patients  where  fits  had  made  their  appearance,  be- 
fore the  exhibition  of  the  medicine.  —  Canadian  Co-urant. 

Camomile. 

In  the  Irish  (Jardener's  Magazine,  it  is  stated,  not  only  that  decoc- 
tions of  the  leaves  of  the  common  camomile,  will  destroy  insects, 
but  that  nothing  contributes  so  much  to  the  health  of  a  garden,  as 
a  number  of  camomile  plants  dispersed  through  it 

French  Cement. 

Take  as  much  lime  as  will  make  a  pailfuU  of  whitewash ;  fill  the 
pail  nearly  full  of  water ;  then  put  in  two  and  a  half  pounds  of  brown 
sugar,  and  three  pounds  of  fine  salt  Mix  tjiem  well  together.  The 
wash  may  be  colored  to  suit  the  &ncy.  It  is  very  durable,  and  recom- 
mended for  roofs  of  houses. 

Used  instead  of  paint,  and,  in  a  good  degree,  proof  against  fire. 
16 


183  THE    FAMILY    VISITOR. 

Floating  ou  the  Water. 

Any  human  being  who  will  have  tPie  presence  of  mind  to  clasp 
the  hands  behind  the  back,  and  turn  the  face  toioards  the.  zenith,  may 
float  at  ease,  and  in  perfect  safety,  in  tolerably  still  water  —  ay,  and 
sleep  there.  \f,  not  knowing  how  to  swim,  you  would  escape  drown- 
ing, when  in  deep  water,  you  have  only  to  consider  yourself  an 
empty  pitcher;  let  your  mouth  and  nose  be  the  highest  part  of  you, 
and  you  are  safe.  But  thrust  up  one  of  your  hands,  and  down  you 
go ;  lor  turning  up  the  handle  tips  over  the  pitcher. 

Wood-House. 

Wood,  for  family  use,  ought  to  be  cut  the  winter  before  it  is  intended 
to  be  used  as  fuel,  so  that  it  may  be  thoroughly  seasoned.  The  ad- 
vantages derived  from  the  use  of  well-seasoned  and  diy  wood,  over 
that  which  is  green  or  wet,  are  many,  and  the  economy  and  pleas- 
antness derived  from  its  use  cannot  have  escaped  the  most  super- 
ficial observer.  When  wet  wood  is  used  as  fuel,  it  takes  nearly  one 
half  the  heat  produced  by  its  combustion  to  carry  off'  the  moisture 
from  it,  and  this  would  be  accomplished  with  much  more  economy 
by  the  air  and  sun,  which  cost  nothing,  before  it  was  hauled  to  the 
dwelling ;  and  in  the  removal  of  it,  much  animal  force  would  be 
saved.  The  expense  or  trouble  of  cutting  it  in  advance,  is  nothing  ; 
but  in  some  cases  there  would  be  a  saving  by  it ;  as  1  have  frequently 
known  farmers  driven  to  the  necessity  of  leaving  very  urgent  and 
important  business,  and  turn  to  and  cut  and  haul  green  wood  for  im- 
mediate use ;  and  a  poor  article  it  was,  ti-uly,  as  the  good  woman 
could  testify,  when  she  attempted  to  cook  the  family  dinner. 

Green  or  wet  wood  makes  much  smoke,  and  the  chimney  often 
rebels  at  being  oppressed  with  it,  and  sends  the  excess,  over  what  it 
can  properly  discharge  in  the  natural  way,  into  the  kitchen,  or 
parlor,  as  the  case  may  be,  to  the  great  annoyance  of  the  female 
part  of  the  family ;  to  the  injury  of  furniture  and  walls ;  and  more 
often  spoils  the  cookery,  to  the  great  mortification  and  chagrin  of 
the  industrious  housewife,  who,  sometimes,  under  such  trying  cir- 
cumstances, is  tempted  to  scold ;  and  no  wonder  if  she  does. 

Appurtenant  to  every  farm-house,  there  should  be  a  wood-house 
or  shed,  in  which  should  be  constantly  kept  a  sufficiency  of  wood, 
cut  and  split  in  advance.  The  situation  of  this  structure  should  be 
such  as  to  furnish  convenient  access  to  the  female  part  of  the  family, 
m  all  kinds  of  weather,  with  the  least  possible  exposure ;  and  it 
should  be  considered  an  incumbent  duty  of  the  head  of  the  family 
always  to  see  that  there  is  an  adequate  supply  of  dry  wood,  cut  into 
suitable  lengths,  so  as  to  be  properly  adapted  to  all  household  pur- 
poses, at  all  seasons  of  the  year. 

Those  who  have  practised  the  foregoing  system,  know  well  there 
is  a  great  saving  of  time  and  expense  in  it,  and  that  it  adds  much  to 
the  comfort  and  convenience  of  a  ^mily,  and  causes  the  domestic 
arrangements  to  proceed*  with  more  quietness  and  composure. — 
Farmer's  Cabinet. 

Cure  for  the  Summer  Complaint. 

Six  drops  of  laudanum  to  half  a  tumbler  full  of  rice-water;  half  a 
tumbler  of  the  mixture  to  be  taken  every  three  ol*  four  hours.    This 


DOMESTIC    RECEIPTS.  183 

« 

simple  remedy  may  be  given  to  infants,  children,  or  at  any  period 
of  life,  and  has  never  failed  in  giving  immediate  reliefj  and,  if  perse- 
vered in  lor  a  few  days,  it  invariably  effects  a  cure,  however  violent 
the  disorder. 

Cold  Water  for  Children. 

An  eminent  physician,  in  New  York,  says  — 

"  During  the  prevalence  of  hot  weather,  there  is  nothing  so  grate- 
ful to  infants  as  cold  water ;  these  little  creatures  suffer  equally  with 
adults  from  thirst,  especially  at  night;  yet,  strange  to  say,  the  mother 
eitlier  neglects  or  fears  to  offer  it  cold  water.  In  mj^  practice,  in 
several  instances,  1  have  been  called  to  see  children  laboring  under 
fever  from  the  effects  of  thirst ;  and,  upon  giving  cold  water,  have 
had  the  pleasure  of  seeing  the  child  recover  in  a  very  short  time,  a 
free  perspiration  following  the  use  of  this  natural  remedy.  Real 
thirst  cannot  be  allayed  by  any  thing  as  well  as  water.  When  a 
child  is  feverish  at  night,  it  will,  in  a  majority  of  cases,  be  cured  by 
freely  sponging  its  face  and  Umbs  with  tepid  water,  and  allowing  it 
to  drink  cold  water.  Let  parents,  who  have  sickly  children,  (of  any 
age,)  try  this  plan;  if  it  does  no  good,  itwill  produce  no  evil;  but  I 
am  certain  it  will  arrest  much  suffering  by  a  very  simple  and  grate- 
ful remedy." 

Core  for  Inflamed  Eyes. 

Pour  boiling  water  on  elder-flowers,  and  steep  them  like  tea; 
when  cold,  put  three  or  four  drops  of  laudanum  into  a  small  glass  of 
the  elder-tea,  and  let  the  mixture  run  into  the  eyes  three  or  four 
times  a  day.  The  eyes  will  become  perfectly  strong  in  the  course 
of  a  week. 

The   Gravel. 

Boil  heavy  red  onions  down  with  sugar,  and  make  a  thick  sirup 
of  it ;  drink  as  much  of  it  as  you  please  daily.  It  is  said  to  cure  the 
gravel  and  stone. 

To  cure  Corns. 

Scrape  the  corn  so  as  to  nearly  cause  it  to  bleed ;  apply  a  salve, 
composed  of  calomel  and  lard ;  renew  the  application  three  or  lour 
times  a  week ;  keep  the  feet  clean,  and  wear  loose  shoes. 

Remedy  for  Fever  and  Agne. 

Take  one  ounce  of  yellow  Peruvian  bark,  one  fourth  ounce  of 
cream  tartar,  one  table  spoonful  of  pulverized  cloves,  and  one  pint 
of  Teneriffe  wine ;  mix  together  and  shake  it  well.  Take  a  wine- 
glass full  every  two  hours,  after  the  fever  is  off. 

Before  taking  the  above,  a  dose  of  Epsom  salts,  or  other  medicine, 
should  be  administered,  to  clease  the  stomach,  and  render  the  ciu^e 
more  speedy  and  certain. 

Sting  of  the  Bee. 

Common  whiting  proves  an  effectual  remedy  against  the  effects 
pf  the  sting  of  a  bee  or  wasp.    The  whiting  is  to  be  moistened 


184  •  THE    FAMILY    VISITOR. 

with  cold  water,  and  immediately  applied.  It  may  be  washed  off  in 
a  few  minutes,  when  neither  pain  nor  swelling  will  ensue.  —  French 
paper. 

Preserved  Pumpkin. 

Stew  your  pumpkin  as  usual  for  pies,  spread  it  thinly  upon  large, 
open  tins  or  platters,  and  place  them  under  or  over  your  stove ; 
where,  if  kept  four  or  five  days,  it  will  be  dry  enough  to  keep  in 
bags  or  boxes  throughout  the  year.  Piunpkin,  preserved  in  this 
way,  is  far  superior  to  that  preserved  in  the  old  method  of  drying, 
making  much  richer  and  better-flavored  pies,  besides  requiring  much 

less  labor. 

ft 

Cure  for  Cancer. 

Mr.  Thomas  Tyrrell,  of  Missouri,  says  he  has  effectually  cured 
himself  of  an  obstinate  cancer,  "  by  the  free  use  of  potash,  made 
from  the  ashes  of  red  oak,  boiled  to  the  consistence  of  molasses, 
used  as  a  poultice,  covering  the  whole  with  a  coat  of  tar.  Two  or 
three  apphcatioos  will  remove  all  protuberances,  after  which  it  is 
only  necessary  to  heal  the  wound  with  common  salve." 

Advantages  of  Cookery. 

"Water,  in  certain  combinations  with  vegetable  substances,  may 
be  considered  as  converted  into  a  nutritious,  and  sometimes  solid 
food.  Every  one  is  aware  that  a  quantity  of  maize  meal,  or  rice,  or 
any  farinaceous  substance,  will  afford  much  more  nutriment  when 
boiled,  than  a  much  greater  quantity  in  an  uncooked  state. 

"  Count  Rumford  states,  in  his  essays,  that  for  each  pound  of  In- 
dian meal  employed  in  making  a  pudding,  we  may  expect  three 
pounds  nine  ounces  of  the  pudding;  and  he  says  again,  that  three 
pounds  of  Indian  meal,  three  fourths  of  a  pound  of  molasses,  and  one 
ounce  of  salt,  (in  all,  three  pounds  thirteen  ounces  of  solid  material,) 
having  been  mixed  with  five  pints  of  boiling  water,  and  boiled  six 
hours,  produced  a  pudding  which  weighed  ten  pounds  and  one 
ounce. 

"  The  gain  of  weight  in  rice  is  more  considerable  than  that  of 
Indian  or  maize  meal ;  but  in  either  it  is  so  great  as  to  demonstrate 
most  conclusively,  the  advantages  of  cooking ;  for  expei'iments  show 
that  the  gain  in  nutritive  power  of  the  cooked  food  is  ht  least  equal 
to  the  gain  in  weight. 

"  In  cooking  food,  such  as  the  grains  or  potatoes,  it  is  clear  the 
water  combines  with  the  farinaceous  matter  in  boiling,  adding 
decisively  to  its  weight.  Every  housewife  can,  if  she  will  take  the 
trouble  to  weigh  the  ingredients  used  in  making  a  pudding  of  Indian 
meal,  satisfy  herself  of  this  increase  in  weight ;  and,  by  observing 
its  effect  as  food,  test* the  value  of  the  cooked  material  over  the  un- 
cooked or  uncombined."  —  Genesee  Farmer. 

Barley  Flour. 

The  Geneva  Gazette  says  —  "  Flour  made  from  barley  is 
much  used  as  an  article  of  diet.    It  makes  the  finest  of  cakes. 


DOMESTIC    RECEIPTS.  185 

and,  when  prepared  in  like  manner,  is  by  -many  preferred  to  buck- 
wheat. Farmers  are  making  the  same  discoveiy  in  regard  to  this 
grain  that  they  have  with  regai"d  to  apples.  Apples  are  now  con- 
sidered quite  as  valuable  as  potatoes  to  fatten  hogs ;  and  barley, 
ground,  is  a  most  valuable  food  for  all  description  of  stock." 

To  the  foregoing  juaicious  remarks  we  would  add  that,  take  one 
year  with  another,  more  bushels  of  bai-ley  can  be  raised  on  an  acre, 
than  of  corn,  and  at  a  much  less  expense ;  and  that  for  food  and 
stock,  it  is  a  more  economical  crop.  Another  vastly  important  con- 
sideration is,  that  it  comes  in  before  the  autumnal  frosts  have  an 
opportunity  to  cut  it  off.  We  should  be  sorry  to  see  com  wholly 
abandoned,  but  every  year's  experience  shows  the  expediency  of 
relying  less  on  it,  and  of  substituting  for  it  barley,  potatoes,  and 
root  crops.  —  Ontario  Repository. 

Tincture  of  Roses. 

Take  the  leaves  of  the  common  rose,  place  them,  without  press- 
ing, in  a  bottle,  pour  some  good  spirits  of  wine  upon  them,  close 
the  bottle,  and  let  it  stand  until  it  is  required  for  use.  This  tincture 
will  keep  for  years,  and  yield  a  purfume  little  inferior  to  otter  of 
roses ;  a  few  drops  of  it  will  suffice  to  impregnate  the  atmosphere 
of  a  room  with  a  delicious  odor.  Common  vinegar  is  greatly  im- 
proved by  a  very  small  quantity  being  added  to  it. 

To  drive  Bags  from  Vines. 

The  ravage  of  the  yellow-striped  bug  on  cucumbers  and  melons 
may  be  effectually  prevented  by  sifting  charcoal  dust  over  the  plants. 
If  repeated  two  or  three  times,  the  plants  will  be  entirely  free  from 
annoyance.  There  is  in  charcoal  some  properties  so  obnoxious  to 
these  troublesome  insects,  that  they  fly  from  it  the  instant  it  is 
applied. 

.'■■*  Mullein  vs.  Mice. 

The  common  mullein,  (verbascum,)  afler  beibg  properly  cleared  of 
the  adhering  eartli  and  other  impurities,  is  extensively  used  in  Ger- 
man granaries,  roots,  stocks,  and  flowers,  in  order  to  prevent  the 
depredations  of  mice,  and  it  affords  a  complete  protection  against 
these  vermin.  Bundles  of  it  are  placed  in  every  corner  and  on  the 
grain  itself. 

AVholesome  Drink  for  warm  Weather. 

Take  a  two  gallon  stone  jug,  and  fill  it  with  cold  water.  Put  intp 
this  water  a  quart  of  oatmeal,  and  shake  it  well.  In  half  an  hour  it 
will  furnish  a  pleasant,  nutritious  and  excellent  beverage.  We 
know  a  farmer,  who  cuts  ordinarily  one  hundred  tons  of  hay.  This 
is  the  only  drink  in  the  field  for  himself  and  his  liands. — JVetr- 
England  Farmer. 

Itching  Feet,  or  Chilblains, 

May  be  relieved  by  rubbing  them  with  a  mixture  of  seven  parts 
water  and  one  part  muriatic  acid,  for  a  few  nights,  before  going 
f»  bed. 

16* 


186  THE    FAMILY    VISITOR. 

Core  for  a  Wen. 

The  following  has  proved  to  be  effectual.  Make  a  veiy  strong  brine, 
and  dip  in  a  piece  of  flannel  two  or  three  times  doubled,  and  apply 
it  to  the  wen,  keep  it  constantly  wet,  night  and  day,  until  a  sup- 
puration takes  place. 

For  Sprains  and  Braises. 

Mix  equal  parts  of  beef-gall  and  vinegar ;  apply  it  often  to  the 
part  injured,  and  dry  it  by  the  fire. 

Preserving  Eggs. 
In  1820,  a  tradesman  at  Paris  asked  permission  of  the  prefect  of 
the  police  to  sell,  in  the  market,  eggs  that  had  been  preserved  a 
year,  in  a  composition,  of  which  he  kept  the  secret.  More  than 
thirty  thousand  of  these  eggs  were  sold  in  open  market  without  any 
complaint  being  made,  or  any  notice  taken  of  them,  when  the  board 
of  health  thought  proper  to  examine  them.  They  were  found  to 
be  perfectly  fresh,  and  could  only  be  distinguished  from  others,  by 
a  pulverous  stratum  of  carbonate  of  lime,  remarked  by  M.  Cadet  to 
be  on  the  egg-shell.  This  induced  him  to  make  a  series  of  exper- 
iments, which  ended  in  his  discovering  that  they  were  preserved 
in  a  highly-saturated  muriate  of  lime-water.  They  may  also  be 
preserved  by  immersing  them  twenty  seconds  in  boiling  water,  and 
then  keepmg  them  well  dried  in  fine-sifted  ashes ;  but  this  will  give 
them  a  grayish-green  coloi*.  The  method  of  preserving  them  in 
lime-water  has  long  been  the  practice  in  Italy.  They  may  be  kept 
thus  for  two  years. 

To  prevent  Toothache,  Agnes,  and  Sore  Throat. 

Wash  the  back  part  of  your  head  and  neck  every  morning  in  cold 
water,  —  the  colder  the  better,  —  and  afterwards  rub  it  diy  with  a 
towel,  and  you  will  seldom,  perhaps  never,  be  troubled  with  a  pain- 
ful affection  of  the  teeth  or  throat 

Warts,  &c. 

The  bark  of  the  common  willow  burnt  to  ashes,  mixed  with  strong 
vinegar,  and  applied  to  the  parts,  will  remove  all  warts,  corns,  and 
odier  excrescences. 

Peach  Trees. 

Marl  put  round  the  trunks  of  peach  trees  —  say  a  bushel,  or  half  that 
measure,  to  each  tree  —  protects  them  from  the  attacks  of  worms,  pre- 
serves the  trees  in  health,  continues  them  in  life  beyond  the  time  of 
their  ordinary  existence,  promotes  the  growth  of  the  fruit  to  almost 
double  its  former  size,  and  increases  the  richness  of  its  flavor  in  like 
proportion.  »-^  Salem  (JV.  /.)  Banner. 

Soiling  Milch  Coavs. 

The  Zoarites,  a  religious  sect  of  Germans,  on  the  Muskingum 
River,  in  Ohio,  keep  their  milch  cows  constantly  in  the  stall,  and  feed 
them  with  the  offal  of  the  milk,  hay,  roots,  &c. ;  and  they  are  said 


DOMESTIC    RECEIPTS.  187 

to  yield  an  extraordinary  quantity  of  milk  —  some  twenty  quarts  a 
day,  through  the  year.  They  also  pay  particular  attention  to  their 
cleanliness.  Their  stalls  are  thoroughly  washed  daily,  and  the  water 
used  for  this  purpose  is  carefully  collected  in  reservoirs,  and  applied, 
in  the  form  of  liquid  manure,  to  their  hot-houses  and  gardens. 

In  a  late  communication  to  the  British  Board  of  Agriculture,  it  is 
stated  that  thirty  cows,  one  bull,  four  calves,  and  five  horses,  were 
fed  through  the  summer  from  fifteen  acres  of  clover,  sown  the  pre- 
ceding yeai".  The  labor  of  two  men  and  two  women  was  sufficient 
to  tend  them ;  and  the  net  produce  of  the  season,  in  butter,  from  June 
to  October,  was  nearly  $90  from  each  cow.  —  Silk  Cultivator. 

Cooks. 

One  of  the  most  useful  creatures  in  existence  is  a  good  cook;  one 
who,  with  an  onion,  a  spoonful  of  butter,  and  a  bone,  will  find  out  a 
better  dish  than  some  can  make  with  a  haunch  of  venison,  and 
"  means  and  appliances  to  boot"  A  good  cook,  especially  if  he  be 
cleanly,  should  be  treated  with  peculiar  respect  and  consideration  ; 
and  if  Paganini  was  permitted  to  "  fiddle  himself  into  a  title  of  no- 
bility," the  former  should  be  allowed  to  cook  himself  an  earldom,  at 
the  state's  cost. 

Bearing  of  Apple  Trees. 

A  horticulturist  in  Bohemia  has  a  beautiful  plantation  of  the  best 
sort  of  apple  trees,  which  have  neither  sprung  fi-om  seeds  nor  graft- 
ing. His  plan  is  to  take  shoots  from  the  choicest  sorts,  insert  them 
in  a  potato,  and  plunge  both  into  the  ground,  leaving  but  an  inch  or 
two  of  the  shoot  above  the  surface.  The  potato  nourishes  the  shoot 
whilst  it  pushes  out  roots,  and  the  shoot  gradually  springs  up  and 
becomes  a  beautiful  tree,  bearing  the  best  of  fruit,  without  requiring 
to  be  grafted. 

Bread. 

Among  all  civilized  nations,  bread  constitutes  the  staple  article  in 
the  food  of  man.  It  has  been  aptly  termed  the  staff"  of  life  ;  but  in 
order  that  it  may  prove  a  staff",  substantia]  and  pleasant,  and  not  a 
"  broken  reed,*^  it  is  all-important  that  it  be  good ;  that  is,  light,  sweet, 
sufficiently  baked,  and  never  eaten  until  a  day  or  two  old. 

"  The  grand  secret  and  mystery  of  havlog  the  bread  come  out  of 
the  oven  delicious,  inviting,  and  nutritive,"  says  an  instructive  writer, 
"is  the  exact  point  of  time  of  putting  it  in.  While  in  the  state  of 
dough,  it  will  readily  rim  into  various  stages  of  fermentation.  The 
fii*8t  of  these  is  the  saccharine,  or  that  which  jjroduces  sugar;  the 
next  is  tlie  vinous  ;  the  third,  the  acetous,  or  that  producing  vinegar, 
&c.  If  the  dough  be  formed  into  loaves,  and  placed  in  the  oven 
before  the  first  lermentation  has  taken  place,  the  bread  will  turn  out 
heavy ;  and  whoever  eats  it  may  rest  assured  of  the  nightmare,  and 
various  other  '  ills  that  flesh  is  heir  to.'  If  it  be  kept  from  the  oven 
till  the  second  fermentation,  it  will  prove  light  enough,  but  tasteless, 
and  little  better  than  the  same  quantity  of  saw-dust.  If  it  be  delayed 
until  the  acetous  fwmentatiun  has  occurred,  it  comes  out  sour,  and 


188  r  THE     FAMILY     VISITOR. 

altogether  uneatable.  It  is,  then,  during  the  first  or  saccharine  fer- 
mentation, that  it  sliould  be  cast  into  the  oven  ;  and  it  will  then,  if 
sufficiently  baked,  be  found  a  sweet  and  wlioJesonie  food. 

"  That  bread  should  be  without  sweetness,  when  allowed  to  run 
into  the  vinous  fermentation,  is  very  easily  explained ;  the  sac- 
charine matter  produced  by  the  first  fermentation  being  converted 
into  a  vinous  spirit,  which  is  driven  off  by  evaporation  during  the 
process  of  baking.  This  kind  of  bread  may  be  easily  distinguished 
without  tasting,  by  its  loose,  open  appearance,  —  the  pores  or  cells 
being  veiy  large ;  —  whereas,  really  good  bread  is  marked  by  fine 
pores,  and  a  sort  of  net- work  of  a  uniform  appearance." 

Cure  for  Quinsy. 

Simmer  hops  in  vinegar  a  few  minutes,  until  their  strength  is  ex- 
tracted ;  strain  the  liquid,  sweeten  it  with  sugar,  and  give  it  frequently 
to  the  child  or  patient,  in  small  quantities,  until  relieved.  Thi^  is 
said  to  be  an  excellent  medicine. 

The  Tomato,  or  liove  Apple. 

This  plant  belongs  to  the  same  genus  with  the  potato  and  egg- 
plant. It  was  originally  brought  from  South  America,  but  is  now 
cultivated  in  many  parts  of  the  globe,  for  the  sake  of  its  large,  vai'i- 
ously-shaj)ed,  scarlet  or  orange  fruit,  which  many  esteem  a  great 
luxury.  These  are  used  in  sauces,  stewing,  and  soups,  and,  when 
boiled  and  seasoned  with  pepper  and  salt,  make  an  excellent  sauce 
for  fish,  meat,  &c.  In  warmer  climates,  they  possess  more  acidity 
and  briskness,  and  are  therefore  more  grateful  to  the  palate.  The 
plant  is  a  tender,  herbaceous  annual,  of  rank  growth,  weak,  decum- 
bent, fetid,  glutinous,  and  downy ;  the  leaves  somewhat  resemble 
those  of  the  potato,  but  the  flowers  are  yellow,  and  disposed  in 
large,  divided  bunches ;  the  fruit  is  pendulous,  shining,  and  very 
ornamental. 

A  medical  professor,  in  one  of  our  western  colleges,  speaks  warmly 
in  favor  of  the  virtues  of  the  tomato.  He  says,  "  that  in  all  those 
afl'ections  of  the  liver,  and  other  organs,  where  calomel  is  indicated, 
it  is,  probably,  the  most  effective  and  least  harmful  remedial  agent 
known  to  the  profession ;  that  a  chemical  extract  will,  probably, 
soon  be  obtained  from  it,  which  will  altogether  supersede  the  use  of 
calomel  in  the  cure  of  (fisease ;  that  he  has  successfully  treated 
serious  dian-hoea  with  this  article  alone ;  that,  when  used  as  an 
article  of  diet,  it  is  almost  a  sovereign  remedy  for  dyspepsia  or  indi- 
gestion ;  that  persons  removing  from  the  east  or  north  to  the  west 
or  south,  should  by  all  means  make  use  of  it  as  an  aliment,  as  it 
would,  in  that  event,  save  them  from  the  danger  attendant  upon  those 
violent  bilious  attacks  to  which  almost  all  unacclimated  persons  are 
liable  ;  and  that  the  citizens  in  general  should  make  use  of  it,  either 
raw,  cooked,  or  in  form  of  a  catsup,  with  their  daily  food,  as  it  is  the 
most  healthy  article  of  the  materia  alimentariaJ'^ 

Tripe. 

The  following  is  the  method  by  which  this#irery  valuable  and 
highly  palatable  part  of  the  beef  is  prepared.    After  it  is  taken  from   " 


DOMESTIC    RECEIPTS.  189 

the  creature,  make  an  iacision  of  about  eighteen  inches,  through 
which  turn  out  the  contents,  with  care  to  keep  the  outside  clean  ; 
then  turn  it  inside  out,  and  sew  up  this  opening  perfectly  tight ; 
rinse  off  the  remaining  impurities  in  warm  water,  and  put  it  into  an 
empty  tub ;  after  which,  take  two  quarts  of  air  or  dry  slaked  lime, 
which  rub  over  it  with  the  hands,  the  hands  being  previously  greased 
to  prevent  the  lime  from  coiToding  them.  Add  about  three  quans 
of  warm  water,  in  which  let  it  remain  from  fifteen  to  twenty  minutes. 
Then  with  a  knife  scrape  it  while  in  the  tub,  and  the  inner  pellicle 
or  skin,  together  with  the  remaining  filth,  will  readily  peel  off,  and 
leave  the  tripe  perfectly  white  and  pure.  Wash  and  rinse  off  all 
impurities;  after  which,  cut  it  into  convenient  slices  to  boiJ:  then 
put  it  to  soak  in  cold  water,  with  the  addition  of  a  little  salt,  in  which 
let  it  remain  twenty-four  hours,  changing  the  water  three  or  four 
times.  It  has  now  become  free  from  all  external  impurities ;  and 
that  strong,  rank  taste,  which  in  the  ordinary  process  is  retained,  is 
now  extracted,  and  it  is  left  perfectly  sweet. 

Process  of  Cooking.  Boil  it  until  it  is  tender ;  then  cut  it  into 
small  pieces,  add  butter  to  it,  warm  it  again,  not  so  as  to  fiy  it,  and 
it  is  one  of  the  most  deUcious  and  wholesome  kinds  of  meat  on  the 
table. 

Composition  for  a  Cement. 

Take  half  a  pint  of  milk,  and  mix  with  it  an  equal  quantity  of 
vinegar,  so  as  to  coagulate  the  milk ;  separate  the  curds  fi-om  the 
whey,  £md  mix  the  latter  with  the  whites  of  four  or  five  eggs,  after 
beating  them  well  up.  The  mixture  of  these  two  substances  being 
complete,  add  sifted  quick  lime  ;  and  make  the  whole  into  a  thick 
paste  of  the  consistence  of  putty.  If  this  mastic  is  carefully  ap- 
pUed  to  broken  bodies  or  fissures  of  any  kind,  and  dried  properly, 
It  resists  water  and  fire. 

Care  for  the  Whooping  Cough. 

A  tea-spoonfull  of  castor  oil,  to  a  tea-spoonfull  of  molasses ;  a 
tea-spoonfull  of  the  mixture  to  be  given  whenever  the  cough  is 
troublesome.  It  will  afford  relief  at  once,  and  in  a  few  days  it 
effects  a  cure.  The  same  medicine  relieves  the  croup,  however 
violent  the  attack.  —  JVational  Intdligencer. 

w 

Core  for  Cough  iu  Horses. 

Take  half  a  pound  of  nitre,  quarter  of  a  pound  of  black  regidus 
of  antimony,  and  two  ounces  of  antimony ;  mix  them  well  in  a 
mortar  and  make  it  up  into  doses  of  one  ounce  each.  Give  the 
horse  one  dose  in  a  cold  mash  mixed  eveiy  night  in  mild  weather, 
for  three  nights ;  then  omit  it  for  a  week.  If  he  does  not  get  better 
of  his  cough,  repeat  it. 

Care  is  necessary  that  the  animal  should  not  be  exposed,  while 
warm,  to  stand  in  a  cold  wind  ;  otherwise  exercise  him  gently,  and 
heat  him  as  usual. 


190 


THE    FAMILY    VISITOR. 


TABLE, 

\Ea.hibiling  the  Seats  of  Government,  the  Times  of  Holding  the  Election  of 
State  Officers,  the  Times  of  the  Meeting  of  the  Legislatures  of  the  several 
States,  and  the  Salaries  of  Governors. 


Maine, 

N.  Hampshire, 

Vermont, 

Massachusetts, 

Rhode  Island, 

Connecticut, 

New  Vorlc, 

New  Jersey, 

Pennsylvania, 

Delaware, 

Maryland, 

Virginia, 

North  Carolina. 

South  Carolina! 

Georgia,  .•<■ 

Alabamav' ' 

Mississippi, 

Louisiana, 

Tennessee, 

Kenlncky, 

Ohio, 

Iijdianaf 

Illinois, 

Missouri, 

Michigan, 

Arkansas, 


Seats  of  GovtTnm£ni.\ 


Augusta, 
Concord, 
Montpelier, 
Boston, 
(  Providence, 
i  and  Newport, 
Hart.  &  N.  Haven. 
Albany, 
Trenton, 
Harrisburg, 
Dover, 
Annapolis, 
Richmond, 
Raleigh, 
Columbia, 
Milledgeville, 
Tuscaloosa, 
Jackson, 
New  Orleans, 
Nashville, 
Frankfort, 
Columbus, 
Indianapolis, 
Springfield, 
Jefferson  City, 
Detroit, 
Little  Bock, 


2d  Monday  in  Sept. 
9d  Tnes.  in  March, 
Ist  Tuesday  in  Sept. 
2d  Monday  in  Nov. 
Gov.  &  Sen.  in  Apr. 
Rep.  in  Apr.  &  Aug. 
1st  Monday  in  April, 
1st  Monday  in  Nov. 
2d  Tuesday  in  Oct. 
2d  Tuesday  in  Oct. 
2d  Tuesday  in  Nov. 
1st  Wedn.  in  Oct. 
4tb  Thurs.  in  April, 
Commonly  in  Aug. 
2d  Monday  in  Oct. 
1st  Monday  in  Oct. 
1st  Monday  in  Aug. 
1st  Mo.  &  Tue.  Nov. 
1st  Monday  in  July, 
1st  Thurs.  in  Aug. 
1st  Monday  in  Aug. 
2d  Tuesday  in  Oct. 
1st  Monday  in  Aug. 
Ist  Monday  in  Aug. 
1st  Monday  in  Aug. 
1st  Monday  in  Oct. 
1st  Monday  in  Oct. 


TimeB  of  Hue  Gov't. 

Meeting  of  the  Legislatareg .     Salary. 


1st  Wednesday  in  Jan. 
1st  Wednesday  in  June. 
2d  Thursday  in  October. 
1st  Wednesday  in  Jan. 
Ist  Wed.  in  Jlay&June. 
last  Wed.  in  Oct.  &  Jan. 
1st  Wednesday  in  May, 
1st  Thursday  in  January. 
4th  Tuesday  in  October. 
1st  Tuesday  in  January. 
Ist  Tues.  in  Jan.  bienn. 
last  Monday  in  Dec. 
Ist  Monday  in  Dec. 
2d  Mon.  in  Nov.  bienn. 
4th  Monday  in  Nov. 
1st  Monday  in  Nov. 
1st  Monday  in  Dec. 
1st  Mon.  in  Jan.  bienn. 
1st  Monday  in  January. 
1st  Mon.  in  Oct.  bienn. 
1st  Monday  in  Dec. 
1st  Monday  in  Dec. 
1st  Monday  in  Dec. 
1st  Mon.  in  Dec.  bienn. 
1st  Mon.  in  Nov.  bienn. 
1st  Monday  in  January. 
3d  Mon.  in  Oct.  bienn. 


1,500 

1,200 

750 

S,666| 

I  400 

1,100 
4,000 
2,000 
4,000 
,333i 
4,200 
3,333i 
2,000 
3,500 
4,000 
3,500 
3,000 
7,500 
2,000 
2,500 
1,500 
1,500 
1,000' 
1,500 
2,000 
2,000 


TABLE, 

ExkiJnting  the  Mimber  of  Senators  and  Representatives  in  the  several  States, 
their  per  diem  Pay,  and  Terms  of  Service. 


5 

^1 

II 

i 

4 

M 

1 

1 

41 

45 

II 

a, 

II 
2 

1 

Me. 

25 

1 

$2 

187 

1 

82 

S.  C. 

2 

«!4 

124 

$4 

N.  H. 

12 

1 

2 

234 

i 

2 

Ga. 

93 

1 

4 

207 

1 

4 

Vt. 

30 

1 

1  50 

233 

1 

1  50 

Aa. 

33 

1 

4 

100 

I 

4 

Ms. 

40 

1 

2 

508 

1 

2 

Mi. 

30 

2 

3 

91 

2 

3 

B.  I. 

10 

t 

1  50 

72 

\ 

1  50 

La. 

17 

2 

4 

.50 

2 

4 

Ct. 

21 

2 

208 

1  50 

Te. 

25 

2 

4 

75 

2 

4 

N.  V. 

33 

1 

3 

128 

1 

3 

Kr., 

38 

1 

3 

100 

1 

3 

N.J. 

14 

1 

3 

50 

I 

3 

O. 

3() 

J 

3 

72 

I 

3 

Pa. 

33 

1 

a 

100 

J 

3 

la. 

30 

1 

2 

62 

1 

2 

De. 

9 

2 

2  50 

21 

2 

2  50 

Is. 

40 

2 

3 

91 

9 

3 

Md. 

21 

1 

4 

79 

1 

4 

Mo. 

18 

2 

3 

49 

2 

3 

Va. 

32 

1 

4 

134 

1 

4 

Mn. 

16 

1 

150 

50 

1 

1  50 

N.  C. 

50 

2 

3 

120 

2 

3 

As. 

17 

2 

2 

54 

2 

2 

^ToU.  —  The  number  of  representatives,  in  many  of  the  state^  varies  from  year  to  year. 
The  table  contains  the  average  or  common  number,  <      ^ 


GOVERNMENT    OP   THE    UNITED    STATES. 


191 


GOVERNMENT    OF    THE    UNITED    STATES. 

Presidents  of  the  Congress  of  the  United  States,  prior  to  the  Adoption  of 
the  present  Constitution. 


From.  Elected. 

Peyton  Randolph, Va Sept.  1774, , 

Henry  Middleton,    S.  C Oct.    1774. 

Peyton  Randolph, Va May,  1775,  , 

John  Hancock, Ms May,  1775,  . 

Henry  Laurens, S.  C Nov.  1777,  . 

John  Jay, N.  Y Dec.   1778,  . 

Samuel  Huntington, Ct Sept.  1779,  , 

Thomas  M'Kean, De July,  1781,  , 

John  Hanson, Md Nov.   1781,  , 

Elias  Boudiuot, N.  J Nov.   1782,  , 

Thomas  Mifflin, Pa Nov.  1783,  . 

Richard  Henry  Lee, Va Nov.  1786, . 

Nathaniel  Gorham, Ms June,  1786,  , 

Arthur  St.  Clair, Pa Feb.    1787, . 

Cyrus  Griffin, Va Jan.    1788,  . 


Bom, 
.1723, 

.1723, 
.  1737, 
.  1723, 
.  1745, 
.  1733, 
,  1734, 


Died. 
1775. 

1775. 
1793. 
1792. 
1784. 
1796. 
1817. 
1783. 
1821. 
1800. 
1794. 
1796. 
1818. 
1810. 

The  first  Continental  Congress  assembled  at  Philadelphia  on  the 
5th  of  September,  1774 ;  and  the  first  Congress  under  the  Constitution 
met  in  New  York  on  tlxe  3d  of  March,  1789. 


1739, 
1744, 
1732, 
1738, 
1734, 
174S, . 


Presidents  of  the  United  States,  Vice  Presidents,  Heads  of  the  several 
Departments,  and  Speakers  of  the  House  of  Representatives,  from  1789 
to  1840. 

Fifst  Administration;  — 1789  to  1797;  —  8  years. 


George  Washington, 
John  Adams. 
Thomas  Jeflerson, 
Edmund  Randolph, 
Timothy  Pickering, 
Alexander  Hamilton. 
Oliver  Wolcotl, 
Henry  Knox, 
Timothy  Pickering, 
James  M'Hi-nry, 
Samuel  Osgood. 
Timothy  Pickering, 
Joseph  Habersham, 
Edmund  Randolph, 
William  Bradford, 
Charles  Lee, 
F.  A.  Muhlenberg, 
Jonathan  Trumbull, 
Jonathan  Dayton, 


Prom. 


Va. 

Ms. 

Va. 

Va. 

Ms. 

N.Y. 

Ct. 

Ms. 

Ms. 

Md. 

Ms. 

Ms. 

Ga. 

Va. 

Pa. 

Va. 

Pa. 

Ct. 


Offices. 


President, 
Vice  President, 

f  Secretaries  of  S 
C         State,         J 

)  Secretaries  of  ( 
^  the   Treasury,  ( 

I  Secretaries  of  S 
C  War,         1 

f  Post  Masters  S 
C       General,       > 

r      Attorneys     S 
C       General, 

^    Speakers  o, 
>      Hou. 
)        Reps. 


■ers  of  C 
se  of  < 
ps.         t 


Bom. 

Feb.  22,  1732, 
Oct.  30,  1735, 
April  2,  1743, 

July  17,'  1*745, 

1757, 

1759, 

1750, 

July  17,  1745, 

1748, 

July  17,  1743, 
1750, 

......  i756, 

1757, 

1740, 


Died. 

Dec.  14,  1 

July  4,  18' 
July  4,  1826, 
Sept.  12, 1813, 
Jan.  29,  1829, 
July  11,  1804, 
June    1,  18,33. 

1806. 

Jan.  29,  1829. 

Aug.  12,  1P3. 
Jan.   29,  1829. 

1815. 

Sept.  12, 1813. 
Aug.   . .  1795. 

1815. 

1809. 


192 


THE    FAMILY    VISITOR. 


Second    Administration;  — 1797   to   1801;  —  4   years. 


From. 


Officer 


Born. 

Oct.  30,  1735, 
April  2,  1743, 
July  17,  1745, 
Sept.  24,   1755, 

1759, 

1761, 

1761, 

1762, 

1751, 

1750, 

1757, 

May,  .  .  .  1746, 


Ditd. 

July  4,  1826. 
July  4,  1826. 
Jan.  29,  1829. 
July  6;  1836. 
June  1, 1833. 
1816. 

1816. 

1812. 

April  18,  1823. 

1815. 

1816. 

Jan.    24,1813. 


John  Adams, 
Thomas  Jefferson, 
Timothy  Pickering, 
John  Marshall, 
Oliver  Wolcott, 
Samuel  Dexter, 
James  M'Henry, 
Samuel  Dexter, 
Roger  Griswold, 
George  Cabot,  * 
Benjamin  Stoddert, 
Joseph  Habersham, 
Charles  Lee, 
Jonathan  Dayton, 
Theodore  Sedgwick, 


Ms. 
Va. 
Ms. 
Va. 

Ct. 

Ms. 

Md. 

Ms. 

Ct. 

Ms. 

Md. 

Ga. 

Va. 

N.  J. 

Ms. 


President, 
Vice  President, 
)  Secretaries  of  ( 
C  State,  I 
>  Secretaries  of  \ 
)  the  Treasury,  ( 

?  Secretaries  of  S 
C         War,         i 

)  Secretaries  of  { 
\      the  Navy,      j 

P.  M.  General. 

Attorney  General, 
)  Speakers  of  < 
5  House  Reps.  ( 


Third    Administration ;  — 1801    to   1809;  — 8   years. 


Thomas  Jefferson, 
Aaron  Burr, 
George  Clinton, 
James  Madison, 
Samuel  Dexter, 
Albert  Gallatin, 
Henry  Dearborn, 
Benjamin  Stoddert, 
Robert  Smith, 
Joseph  Habersham, 
Gideon  Granger, 
Levi  Lincoln, 
John  Breckenridge, 
Caesar  A.  Rodney, 
Nathaniel  Macon, 
Joseph  B.  Varnum, 


From. 


Va. 
N.  Y. 
N.  Y. 

Va. 
Ms. 
Pa. 
Ms. 
Md. 
Md. 
Ga. 
Ct. 
Ms. 

^y- 

De. 

N.  C. 
Ms. 


President, 
)  Vice  ( 

C  Presidents,  \ 
Secretary  of  State, 
)  Secretar-ies  of  ( 
y  tlie  Treasury,  ( 
Secretary  of  War, 

!  Secretaries  of  ( 
the  Navy.      ( 
Post  MastersX 
General,      ( 

f     Attorneys 
r      General^ 

)    Speakers  of 
)  House  Reps. 


April  2,  1743, 
Feb.     6,   1766. 

1740; 

Mar.  16,   1751, 

... 1761, 

1751, 


1750, 
1767, 
1749, 


1768, 
1750, 


July  4,  1826. 
Sept.  14, 1836. 
April  20,  1812. 
June  28,  1837. 
1816. 


1829. 


1815. 
1822. 
1820. 
1806. 


Jan.  29,1837. 
1821. 


Fourth    Administration ;  — 1809   to   1817;  — 8   years. 


James  Madison, 
Gcdrnfc  Clinton, 
I'.lbridgc  Gerry, 
Robert  Smith, 
James  Monroe, 
Albert  Gallatin, 
George  W.  Campbell, 
Alexander  J.  Dallas, 
William  Eustis, 
John  Armstrong, 
James  Monroe, 
William  H.  Crawford, 


From. 


Va. 

N.  Y. 

Ms. 

Md. 

Va. 

Pa. 

Te. 

Pa. 

Ms. 

N.  Y. 

Va. 

Ga. 


OJJices. 


President, 

Vice  5 

Presidents,    \ 

Secretaries  of  i 

State,         ( 

Secretaries  o/"  V 
'the  Treasury,  J 

Secretaries  of] 
*        War,     -^1 


Mar.  16, 


1751, 
1740, 
1744, 


April  28,  1759, 


1760, 
1754, 


June  28,  1837. 

AprU  20,  1812. 

......  1814. 

July     4,  1831. 


1817. 
1826. 


April  28,   1759,  July     4,  1831. 
.:.... !   ......1834. 


*  Mr.  Cabot  declined  the  appoi|^ent. 


GOVERNMENT  OF  THE  UNITED  STATES. 


193 


Paul  Hainilton, 
William  Jones, 
B.  W.  Crowning^shield, 
Gideon  Granger, 
Return  J.  Meig's, 
Caesar  A.  Rocliiey, 
William  Pinkney, 
Richard  Rush, 
Joseph  B.  Vaniutn, 
Hejiry  Clay, 
Langdon  Cheves, 


From. 

S.  C. 

Pa. 

Ms. 

Ct. 

O. 

De. 

Md. 

Pa. 

Ms. 

Ky. 

S.  C. 


OJiee. 


/  Secretaries  of ' 
C      tJie  Navy,     '. 

I  Post  Masters  ( 
J       General,      J 

f  Attorneys  ' 
^      General,      ' 

^  Speakers  of  ( 
>  House  of  < 
3        Reps.         ( 


1764, 

1750, 

April  12, 1777. 


Born. 

DUd. 

1816. 

*.  .  1767, 

1822. 

1825. 

1822. 
1821. 


Fifth    Administration;  — 1817   to   1825;  —  8    years. 


Jamks  JIonroe, 
Daniel  D.  Tompkins, 
John  Quincy  Adams, 
William  H.  Crawford, 
Isaac  Shelby,* 
John"C.  Calhoun, 
B.  W.  Crowninshield, 
Smith  Thompson, 
Samuel  L.  Southard, 
Return  J.  Meigs, 
John  M'Lean, 
Richard  Rush, 
William  Wirt, 
Henrv  Clay, 
John"W.  Tavlor, 
Philip  P.  Barbour, 


Office. 


President,  April  28, 1759, 

Vice  President,    | 1775, 

Secretary  of  State,  July  11,  1767. 
Sec.  of  Treasury 
}  Secretaries  of  ' 
5         War, 

\  Secretaries  of 
C     the  Navy. 

)  Post  Masters 
\  General, 
)  Attorneys 
5  General, 
P  Speakers  of 
>  the  House 
3      of  Reps. 


July  4,    1831. 
1825. 


Sixth    Administration;  — 1825   to   1829;  —  4   years. 


Namet. 

fVom. 

Ms. 

Q^. 

Bom. 

Dud. 

Jonx  Qui.vcY  Adams, 

President, 

July  11,  1767. 

John  C.  Calhoun,' 

!^.  C. 

Vice  President, 

1781. 

Henry  Clay, 
Richard  Rush, 

Pa. 

Secretary  of  State, 
Sec.  of  Treasury. 

April  12, 1777. 

James  Barbour, 

Va. 

)  Secretaries  of  ( 
I         War.         } 

Peter  B.  Porter, 

N.«Y. 

Samuel  L.  Southard, 

N.  J. 

Sec.  of  the  Navy. 

John  M"Lean, 

O. 

P.  M.   General, 

Mar.  11,  1785. 

William  Wirt, 

Va. 

Attorney   General, 

Nov.  8,   1772, 

Feb.  18,  1835. 

John  W.  Taylor, 

N.  Y. 

)    Speakers  of  ( 
\  House  Reps.  ( 

Andrew  Stephenson, 

Va. 

Seventh   Administration ;  — 1829   to   1837;  — 8   years. 


Andrew  Jackson, 
John  C.  Calhoun, 
Martin  Van  Buren, 


fVom. 


Te. 
S.  C. 
N.  Y. 


UJTic*. 


President,  Mar.  15,  1767. 

Vice  President,       1781. 

Secretary  of  State,  Dec.   5,  1782. 


17 


*  Mr.  Shelby  decUned  tb«  appointment. 


194 


THE    FAMILY    VISITOR. 


Edward  Livingston, 
Louis  AI'Lean, 
John  Forsyth, 
Samuel  D.  Ingham, 
Louis  M'Lcan, 
AVilliam  J.  Duane, 
Levi  Woodbury, 
John  H.  Eaton, 
Lewis  Cass, 
John  Branch, 
Levi  Woodbury, 
Mahlon  Dickerson,   ♦ 
William  T.  Barry, 
Amos  Kendall, 
John  M'P.  Berrien, 
Roger  B.  Taney, 
Benjamin  F.  Butler, 
Andrew  Stephenson, 
John  Bell. 


FVom. 


La. 

De. 

Ga. 

Pa. 

De. 

Pa. 

N.  H. 

Te. 

O. 

N.  C. 

N.H. 

N.  J. 

Kv. 

KS'. 

Ga. 

Md. 

N.  Y. 

Va. 

Te. 


Office. 


?  Secretaries  of ' 
C         State,     '   ' 

)  Secretaries  of 
the   Treasu}-y.  "* 

)  Secretaries  of  i 
\  War.         ; 

f  Secretaries 
C     the  Nu 

)  Post  Masters 
^       General, 

\     Attorneys 
)       General. 

)    Speakers  of 
\  House  Reps. 


es  of  S 

./J 


1765. 


1837. 


1835. 


Eigrhth    Administration :  — 1837   to 


Martin  Van  Burkn, 
Richard  M.  Johnson, 
John  Forsyth, 
Levi  Woodbury, 
Joel  R.  Poinsett, 
Mahlon  Dickenson, 
James  K.  Paulding, 
Amos  Kendall, 
Benjamin  F.  Butler, 
Felix  Grundy, 
Henry  D.  Gilpin, 
James  K.  Polk, 
Robert  M.  T.  Hunter, 


N.  Y. 
Ky. 
Ga. 
N.  H. 
S.  C. 
N.   J. 
N.  Y. 
Ky. 
N.  Y. 
Te. 
Pa. 
Te. 
Va. 


OJice. 


President, 
Vice  President. 
Secretary  of  State. 
Sec.  of  Treasury. 
Secretary  of  War. 
^  Secretaries  of  ( 
^  the  Navy.  ( 
P.  M.  General. 

?     Attorneys      S 
C      General.      "} 

)   Sp^kers  of  5 
)  House  Reps.  ( 


Dec.  5,  1782. 


The    President  of  the    United   States    receives   an   annual    salary  of 

f'i.'S.OOO;  the  Vice  President,  $.5,000;  the  Secretaries  of  State,  the 
reasury,  War,  and  Navy,  and  the  Post  Master  General,  $6,000,  and 
the  Attorney  General  $4,000,  annually.  The  several  Secretaries  above 
named,  the  Post  Master,  and  Attorney  General,  form  the  Cabinet,  or 
executive  department,  and  hold  their  offices  at  the  will  of  the  President. 


ELECTORAL    VOTES, 

For  President  of  the  United  States,  from  1789  to  1837. 


Candidates. 

George  Washington, 
George  Washington, 
John  Adams,  .  .  ) 
Thomas  JeflTerson,  j  •  •  •  • 


Terms  of  4  years. 
1st 

2d 


3d. 


Date. 

.  1789, . 
.  1793, , 

.  1797, 


Whole  No. 

..    69.   . 
.  .  135.    . 


Largest  tfa. 

69. 

132. 


138. 


I    67. 


ELECTORAL    VOTES. 


195 


Thomas  Jefferson, 

John  Adams, 

Aaron  Burr, 

Charles  C.  Pinkney, . 

Thomas  Jefferson, 
Charles  C.  Pinkney,  . 

James  Madison,  .  ) 
Charles  C.  Pinkney, ) 

Jamks  Madiso 
I)e  Witt  Clinton 


Term  of  4  years.  Dale. 


3NR0E,  ) 
g,  •  •  •    > 


James  Mos 

Rufus  King, 

James  Monroe,   .  .   } 
John  Quincy  Adams,  ) 

John  Quincy  Adams, 
Andrew  Jackson,  .... 
William  H.  Crawford, 
Henry  Clay, 

Andjiew  Jackson,    ) 
John  Quincy  Adams.  J 

Andrew  Jackson,  > 
Henry  Clay,  .....   5   ' 

Martin  Van  Buren, 
William  H.  Harrison, 

H.  L.  White, 

Daniel  Webster,    .... 
W.  D.  Mangani,  .  .  .  .  ^ 


4th.^ 


1801, 


5th. 


6lh. 


,  7lh. 


8Ui. 


9th. 


1806,. 

1809,. 

1813,  , 
.  1817, , 
,  1821,  , 


10th.  t 1825, 


11th. 


12th. 


13lh. 


1829,. 
1833,. 

,  1837, 


Whole  No.       Largest  No. 

73. 

138 <!    g 

64. 

176 yf,: 

169 S'S 

^n jig; 

,221 J 1^; 

.232 j^J- 

*  r  84. 

.261 i  ^5: 

[   37. 

.« rs 

.« PS: 

{170. 
73. 
26. 
14. 
11. 


PROMINENT    CANDIDATES 

For  President  of  the  United  States  for  the  14th  term  of  four  years  ;  from 
March  4th,  1841,  to  March  4th,  1845. 

Martin  Van  Buren, N.  Y.  born  at  Kinderhook,  N.  Y.  Dec.  5,  1782. 

William  Henry  Harrison,  .  O.  . .    "    in  Virginia, Feb.  9, 1773. 

Henry  Clay, Ky.  .    "    in        "       April  12,  1777. 

WiNFiELD  Scott, N.  Y.     "    in        "       June  13, 1785. 

Three    different  modes   of  choosing  electors   of  President  and   \  .ce 
President  are    given  to  the   several  states  by  the  Constitution.      The 


*  Tliis  election  was  carried  to  the  House  of  Representatives,  and  Mr.  Jefferson,  on 
the  :i6th  ballot,  was  elected.  Previous  to  this  time  the  two  candidati-s,  who  receiveil 
the  largest  number  of  votes,  were  elected  President  and  Vice  President;  —  after  this 
tlioy  were  voted  for  separately. 

f  This  elpctioa  was  also  carried  to  the  House  of  Representatives,  there  being  no 
choice  by  the  people.  The  votes  cast,  in  that  body,  were  —  for  Mr.  Adams,  90;  Mr. 
Jackson,  G7 ;  and  48  for  Mr.  Crawford  ;  —  total,  205.  Mr.  Clay's  political  friends  voted 
for  Mr.  Adams. 


196 


THE    FAMILY    VISITOR. 


first  is  by  the  people,  by  districts;  the  second,  by  the  people,  by  a 
general  ticket;  and  the  third,  by  the  state  legislatures.  In  1836,  all  the 
states  chose  their  electors  by  a  general  ticket,  except  South  Carolina, 
in  which  they  were  chosen  by  the  legislature. 

The  electors  must  be  chosen  within  thirty-four  days  of  the  first 
Wednesday  in  the  December  immediately  preceding  the  commencement 
of  the  presidential  term,  on  which  day  of  December  they  meet  in  their 
respective  states  to  give  their  votes. 


JUDICIARY    OF   THE    UNITED    STATES. 

Succession  of  Chief  Justices. 


Appointed. 


1745, 


John  Jay, N.  Y 1789,  .  . 

John  Rutledge, S.  C 1795, 

William  Cushiiig, Ms 1796, 1733, 

Oliver  Elsworth, Ct 1796, 1742, 

John  Jay, N.  Y 1800, 1745, 

John  Marshall, Va 1801, 1755. 

Roger  B.  Taney, Md 1836. 


Died, 
1829. 

1800. 
1810. 
1807. 
1829. 
1836. 


Succession  of  Associate  Justices. 

Namet.  FVom.  Appointed. 

John  Rutledge, .  S.  C 1789, 

William  Cushine, Ms. 1789, 

R.  H.  Harrison, Md 1789, , 

James  Wilson, Pa. 1789, 

John  Blair, Va 1789, 

James  IredeU, N.  C 1790. 

Thomas  Johnson, Md 1791, 

William  Patterson, N.  J 1793, 

Samuel  Chase Md 1796, 

Bush.  Washington, Va 1798, , 

William  Johnson, S.  C 1804, 

Brock.  Livingston, N.  Y 1806, 

Thomas  Todd, Va 1807. 

Levi  Lincoln,* M3, 1811. 

John  Quincy  Adams,* Ms 1811. 

fiabriel  Duval, Md 1811. 

Joseph  Story, Ms. 1811, 

Smith  Thompson, .  N.  Y 1823. 

Robert  Trimble, ." .  .  Ky 1826. 

John  M'Lean, 0 1829, 

Henry  Baldwin, Pa 1830. 


1733,, 
1745,, 

1742,  , 
1732, 

1732, 


1741, 
1758, 

1727, , 
1758, 


1779. 


1785. 


Died. 
1800- 
1810. 

1790. 
1798. 
1800. 

1819. 
1806. 
1811. 
If329. 
1819. 
1823. 


The  Supreme  Court  of  the  United  States  is  held  in  the  city  of 
Washington,  and  has  one  session,  annually,  commencing  on  the  second 
Monday  of  January. 


*  Declined  the  appointment. 


CONGRESS  OF  THE  UNITED  STATES. 


197 


CONGRESS  OF  THE   UNITED  STATES. 

The  Congress  of  the  United  States  consists  of  a  Senate  and  House  of 
Representatives,  and  must  assemble,  at  least  once  every  year,  on  the  1st 
Monday  of  December,  unless  it  is  otherwise  provided  by  law. 

The  Senate  is  composed  of  two  members  from  each  State;  and  of  course 
the  regular  number  is  now  52.  They  are  chosen  by  the  legislatures  of  the 
several  States,  for  the  term  of  six  years,  one  third  of  them  being  elected 
biennially. 

The  Vice  President  of  the  United  States  is  the  President  of  the  Senate, 
in  which  body  he  has  only  a  casting  vote,  which  is  given  in  case  of  an 
equal  division  of  the  votes  of  the  Senators.  In  his  absence,  a  President 
pro  tempore  is  chosen  by  the  Senate. 

The  House  of  Representatives  is  composed  of  members  from  the  several 
States,  elected  by  the  people  for  the  term  of  two  years.  The  Representa- 
tives are  apportioned  among  the  different  States  according  to  population; 
and  the  23d,  24th,  25th,  and  26th  Congresses  have  been  elected  in  accord- 
ance with  an  act  of  Congress  of  1832,  one  representative  being  returned 
for  every  47,700  persons,  computed  according  to  the  rule  prescribed  by 
the  Constitution.  The  present  regular  number  is  242  representatives,  and 
3  delegates. 

Since  the  4th  of  March,  1807,  the  compensation  of  each  member  of 
the  Senate  and  House  of  Representatives,  has  been  $8  a  day,  during  the 
period  of  his  attendance  in  Congress,  without  deduction  in  case  of  sick- 
ness; and  J^8  for  every  twenty  miles'  travel,  in  the  usual  road,  in  going  to 
and  returning  from  the  seat  of  government.  Tlie  compensation  of  the 
President  of  the  Senate,  pro  tempore,  and  of  the  Speaker  of  the  House  of 
Representatives,  is  $16  a  day. 


Members  of  the  Senate  of  the  United  States. 
Twenty-Sixth  Congress. 

Note.  —  The  figures  denote  the  period  of  the  Senatorial  teriiiB,  and  the  asterisks  the 
political  friends  of  the  present  Administralion, 


Maine. 

John  Rugdes,  ....  184.1. 
*Ruel  Winiams, .  .  .  1843. 

New  Hampshire. 
*Henry  Hubbard,.  .  1841. 
•Frauklin  Pierce,  .  .  1843. 

Vermont. 

Samuel  Phelps,   .  .  .  1846. 
Samuel  Prentiss,   .  .  1843. 

Massoxlmsetts. 

John  Davis, 1841. 

Daniel  Webster,  .  .  .  1846. 

Rhode  Island. 
Nathan  F.  Dixon, .  .  1845. 
Neh.  R.  Knight,..  .  1841. 
17* 


Connecticut. 

Thaddeus  Betts,  .  .  .  1845. 
*Perry  SmiUi, 1843. 

New  York. 

*Silas  Wright, 1843. 

Nath.  P.  Talmadge,  1845. 

Neio  Jersey. 

S.  L.  Southard,  .  .  .  1845. 
•Garrett  D.  Wall, .  .  1841. 

Pennsylvania. 

*Jaines  Buchanan,  .  1843. 
*Daniel  Sturgeon, .  .  1845. 

Delaware. 

Thomas  Clayton, .  .  1841. 
Vacancy. 


Manjland. 
William  D.  Merrick,  1845. 
John  S.  Spence, .  .  .  1843. 

Virginia. 

*  William  H.  Roane,  1841. 
Vacancy. 

North  Carolina. 

'Bedford  Brown,  .  .  1841. 
*Robert  Strange,  .  .  1843. 

South  Carolina. 

*John  C.  Calhoun,  .  1841. 
William  C.  Preston,  IS-IS. 

Geor^a. 
•Alfred  Cuthbertj  .  .  1843. 
•William  Lumpkin, .  184J. 


■mn  m. 


198 


THE    FAMILY    VISITOR. 


Alabama. 
•Clement  C.  Clay,  .  1843, 
-William  R.  Kwg, .  1841. 

Mississippi. 

John  Henderson,  .' .  1845. 
*Jl.  J.  Walker, 1841. 

Louisiana. 

•Alexander  Mouton,  1843. 
*R.  C.  Nicholas, .  .  .  1841. 


"Felix  Grundy, 1845. 

Vacant. 


Kentticky. 

Henry  Clay, 1843. 

John  J.  Crittenden, .  1841. 

Ohio. 

*William  Allen,  .  .  .  1841. 
•Benjamin  Tappan, .  1845. 

Indiana. 

•Oliver  H.  Smith, .  .  1843. 
Albert  S.  White, . .  .  1845. 

Illinois. 

•J.  M.  Robinson,  .  .  1841. 
Richard  M.  Young,  1843. 


Missouri. 

•Thomas  H.  Benton,  1845. 
•Lewis  F.  Linn,.  .  .  1843. 

Michigan. . 

•John  Norvell, 1841. 

A.  A.  Porter, 1845. 

Arkansas. 

•William  S.  Fulton,  1840. 
•Ambrose  H.  Sevier,  1844. 


Members  of  the  House  of  Representatives  of  the  United  States. 
Twenty-Sixth  Congress,  First  Session,  begun  Dec.  3,  1839. 

NoTE.^The  letter  d.  signifies  Democrat ;  id.  Whig;  7  Doubtful ;  and  con.  Conservative.* 
Robert  M.  T.  Hunter,  of   Virginia,  Speaker. 


Adams,  John  Quincy,  w Ms. 

Alford,  Julius  C,  w Ga. 

Allen,  Judson,  d N.  Y. 

Allen,  John  W.,  w O. 

Anderson,  Hugh  J.,  d Me. 

Anderson,  Simeon  H.,  w Ky. 

Andrews,  Landaif  W.,  w Ky. 

Atherton,  Charles  G.,d N.  H. 

Banks,  Linn,  d Va. 

Baker,  Osmyn,  w Ms 

Barnard,  Daniel  B.,  w N.  Y. 

Beatty,  William,  d Pa. 

Beime,  Andrew,  d Va. 

Bell,  John,  w Te. 

Biildle,  Richard,  w Pa. 

Black,  Edward  J.,  ? Ga. 

Biackwell,  Julius  \V.,  d Te. 

Bond,  William  K.,  io O. 

Botts,  John  M.,  w Va. 

Bo^-d,  Linn,  d Ky. 

Brewster,  David  P.,  d N.  Y. 

Briggs,  George  N.,  w Ms. 

BrocKway,  John  H.,  w Ct. 

Brown,  Aaron  V.,  d Te. 

Brown,  Albert  G.,  d Mi. 

Brown,  Anson,  w N.  Y. 

Burke,  Edmund,  d N.  H. 

Butler,  Sampson  H.,  rf S.  C. 

Butler,  William  0.,-rf Ky. 

Bynum,  Jesse  A.,  d N.  C. 


Calhoun,  William  B.,  w Ms. 

Campbell,  John,  ? S.  C. 

Campbell,  William  B.,  to Te. 

Carr,  John,  d la. 

Carroll,  James,  d Md. 

Carter,  William  B.,  lo Te. 

Casey,  Zadok,  d Is. 

Chapman,  Reuben,  d Aa. 

Chapman,  William  W.,  d lo. 

Chinn,  Thomas  W.,  to La. 

Chittenden,  Thomas  C,  to N.  Y. 

Clark,  John  C,  con N.  Y. 

Clifford,  Nathan^  d ♦. .  Me. 

Coles,  Walter,  d ' Va. 

Colquit,  Walter  T.,  ? Ga. 

Conner,  Henry  W.,  d N.  C. 

Cooper,  James,  tv Pa. 

Cooper,  Mark  A.,  ? Ga. 

Corwin,  Thomas,  w O. 

Crabb,  George  W.,  w Aa. 

Craig,  Robert,  d Va. 

Cranston,  Robert  B.,  to R.  I. 

Crary,  Isaac  E.,  d Mn. 

Crockett,  John  W.,  w Te. 

Cross,  Edward,  d As. 

Curtis,  Edward,  w N.  Y. 

Gushing,  Caleb,  to Ms. 

Dana,  Amasa,  d i  .  .  N.  Y. 

Davee,  Thomas,  d Me. 

Davies,  Edward,  lo, Pa. 


♦"Conservative;  an  adjective;  preservative;  having  power  to  preserve  in  a  safe  or 
entire  state,  or  from  loss,  waste,  or  injury." — JVoah  fVebster. 


CONGRESS    OF   THE    UNITED    STATES. 


199 


Davis,  John,  d Pa. 

Davis,  John  \V.,  d la. 

Davis,  Garret,  w Ky. 

Dawson,  William  C,  w Ga. 

Deberry,  Eklmuad,  to N.  C. 

Dennis,  John,  w Md. 

Dellett,  James,  w Aa. 

Doan,  William,  d O. 

Doig,  Andrew  Vf.,d N.  Y. 

Doly,  James  D.,  d Wn. 

Downing,  Charles,  d Fa. 

Dromgoole,  George  C,  d Va. 

Duncan,  Alexander,  d O. 

Earl,  Nehemiah  H.,  rf N.  Y. 

Eastman,  Ira  A.,  </ N.  H. 

Edwards,  John,  w Pa. 

Ely,  John,  d N.  Y. 

Evans,  George,  w Me. 

Everett,  Horace,  lo Vt. 

Fillmore,  Millard,  to N.  Y. 

Fine,  John,  d N.  Y. 

Fisher,  Charles,  d N.  C. 

Fletcher,  Isaac,  d Vt. 

Floyd,  John  G.,  d N.  Y. 

Fornance,  Joseph,  d Pa. 

Galbraith,  John,  d Pa. 

Garland,  James,  con.   .  .  ...  .  .  .  Va. 

Garland,  Rice,  le ^.  . . .  La. 

Gates,  Seth  M.,  u? N.  Y. 

Gentry,  Meredith  Fif  to Te. 

Gerry,  James,  d Pa. 

Gidtfings,  Joshua  R.,  w O. 

Goggin,  William  L.,  10 Va. 

Goode,  Patrick  G.,  w O. 

Graham,  Jame$,  to N.  C. 

Granger,  Francis,  id N.  Y. 

Graves,  William  J.,  to Ky. 

Green,  Willis,  w Ky. 

Griffin,  John  K.,  rf S.  C. 

Grinnell,  Moses  H.,  to N.  Y. 

Habersham,  Richard  W.,  w. .  .  .  Ga. 

Hall,  Hiland,  to Vt. 

Hammond,  Robert  H.,  d Pa. 

Hand,  Aurastus  C,  d N.  Y. 

Hastings,  William  S.,  to Ms. 

Hastings,  John,  d O. 

Hawes,  Richard,  10 Ky. 

Hawkins,  Micajah  T.,  d N.  C. 

Henrv,  Thomas,  to Pa. 

Hill,  "John,  w Va. 

Hill,  John,  d N.  C. 

Hilten,  Solomon,  jr.,  d Md. 

Hoffman,  Ogden,  to N.  Y. 

Holleman,  Joel,  d Va. 

Holmes,  Isaac  E.,  d S.  C. 

Hook.  Enos,  d Pa. 

Hopkins,  George  W.,  con Va. 

Howard,  Til^^hman  A.,  d la. 

Hubbard,  David,  d Aa. 

Hunt,  Hiram  P.  w N.  Y. 

Hunter,  R.  M.  T.,  ? Va. 

Jackson,  Thomas  13.,  (/ N.  Y. 


James,  Francis,  10 Pa. 

Jameson,  John,  d Mo. 

Jenifer,  Daniel,  to Md. 

Johnston,  Charles,  to N.  Y. 

Jolinson,  Joseph,  d Va. 

Johnson,  William  Cost,  w Md. 

Johnson,  Cave,  d Te. 

Jones  Nathaniel,  (/ N.  Y. 

Jones,  John  W.,  d Va. 

Keim,  George  M.,  d Pa. 

Kemble,  Gouverneur,  d N.  Y. 

Kempshall,  Thomas,  10 N.  Y. 

King,  Thomas  Butler,  ? Ga. 

Lawrence,  Abbott,  10 Ms. 

Leadbetter,  Daniel  P.,  rf O. 

Leet,  Isaac,  d Pa. 

Leonard,  Ste^ed-B.,  d N.  Y. 

Lewis,  Dixon  H>^^y Aa. 

Lincoln,  Levi,  to Ms. 

Lowell,  Joshua  A.,  d Me. 

Lucas,  William,  d Va. 

M'Carty,  W.  M.,  to Va. 

M'Clellan,  Abraham,  d Te. 

M'Culloch,  George,  d. Pa. 

M'Kav,  James  f.,  d N.  C. 

Mallofy,  Meredith,  d N.  Y. 

Marchand,  Albert  G.,  d Pa. 

Marvin,  Richard  P.,  to N.  Y. 

Mason,  Samson,  to O. 

Medill,  William,  d :  O. 

Miller,  John,  d Mo. 

Mitchell,  Charles  F.,  to N.  Y. 

Monroe,  James,  to N.  Y- 

Montanya,  James  D.  La,  </....  N.  Y. 

Montgomery,  William,  d N.  C. 

Morgan,  Christopher,  to N.  Y. 

Morris,  Samuel  W.,  d Pa, 

Morris,  Calvary,  to O. 

Naylor,  Charles,  to Pa. 

Newhard,  Peter,  d Pa.  • 

Nisbet,  Eugenius  A.,  ? Ga. 

Ogle,  Charles,  to.  * Pa. 

Osborne,  Thomas  B.,  to Ct. 

Palen,  Rufus,  10 N.  Y. 

Parish,  Isaac,  d O. 

Parmenter,  William,  d Ms 

Parris,  Virgil  D.,  rf. Me 

Paynter,  Lemuel,  d Pa. 

Peck,  Luther  C,  to N.  Y. 

Petrikin,  David,  d Pa. 

Pickens,  Francis  W.,  d S.  C. 

Pope.  John,  to Ky. 

Prentiss,  John  U.,  d N.  Y. 

Proffit.  George  H.,  to 'a- 

Ramsev,  William  S,  d Pa. 

Randall,  Benjamin,  to Me. 

Randolfli,  Joseph  F.,  to N.  J. 

Rariden,  James,  10 la. 

Rayner,  Krinncih,  w. N.  C. 

Reed,  John,  w Ms. 

Reynolds,  John,  d Is. 

Rhett.  R.  Barnwell,  d S.  C. 


200 


THE    FAMILY^  VISITOR. 


Ridgway,  Joseph,  w O. 

Rives,  Francis  E.,  d Va. 

Robinson.  Thomas,  jr.,  d De. 

Rogers,  Edward,  d N   Y. 

Rogers,  James,  d S.  C. 

Russell,  David,  w N.  Y. 

Sallonstall,  Lcverett,  w Ms. 

Samuels,  Green  B.,  d Va. 

Sergeant,  Jolui,  w Pa.  . 

Sliaw,  Tristram,  d N.  H. 

Shepard,  Charles,  d N.  C. 

Simonton,  William,  w Pa. 

Slade,  William,  w Vt. 

Smith,  Albert,  d ." .  .  .  Me. 

Smith,  John,  d Vt. 

Smith,  Truman,  10 Ct. 

iSmith,  Thomas,  d la. 

Stanly,  Edward,  w N.  C. 

Starkweather,  David  A.,  d.   .  .  .  O. 

Steenrod,  l^ewis,  d Va. 

Storrs,  William  L.,  lo Ct. 

Strong,  Theron  R.,  d N.  Y. 

Stuart,  John  T.,  w .Is. 

Sumter,  Thomas  B.,  d S.  C. 

Sweariiigen,  Henry,  d O, 

Sweeny,  George,  d O. 

Taliaferro,  John,  w Va. 

Taylor,  Jonathan,  d O. 


Tliomas,  Francis,  d Md. 

Thomas,  Philip  F.,  d Md. 

Thompson,  Waddy,  jr.,  w S.  C. 

Thompson,  Jacob,  d Mi. 

Tillinghast,  Joseph  L.,  w R.  I. 

Toland,  George  W.,  lo Pa. 

Triplett,  Philip,  w Ky. 

Trumbull,  Joseph,  w Ct. 

Turney,  Hopkins  L.,  d Te. 

Underwood,  Joseph  R.,  w Ky. 

Vanderpoel,  Aaron,  d N.  Y. 

Wagoner,  David  D.,  d Pa. 

Wagner,  Peter  J.,  mi N.  Y. 

Warren,  Lott,  v; Ga. 

Wailerson,  Harvey  M.,  d Te. 

Weller,  John  B.,  d O. 

White,  Edward  D.,  w La. 

White,  John,  w Ky. 

Wick,  William  W.,  d la. 

Williams,  Jared  W.,  rf N.  H. 

Williams,  Thomas  W.,  w>. .  .'  .  .  .  Ct. 

Williams,  Henry,  d Ms. 

Williams,  Lewis,  vj N.  C. 

Williams,  Joseph  L.,  w Te. 

Williams,  Christopher  H.,  w.  .  .  Te. 

Williams,  Sherrod,  to Ky. 

Wise,  Henry  A.,  w Va. 

Worthington,  John  T.  H.,  d Md. 


Summary. 

The  following  Table  presents,  at  one  view,  as  correct  a  statement  of 
the  political  character  of  the  House  as  could  be  obtained  from  authen- 
tic sources  in  January,  1840. 


States. 

Whole 
No. 

Demo. 

IVTiiff. 

Dblf. 

Con. 

Statct. 

Whole 
No. 

Demo. 

Whig. 

Dbtf.    Can 

We. 

..    8  . 

.    6  . 

.  .   2 

Ga. 

.    9  .  . 

.  4. 

..5 

N.H. 

.  .    5. 

.    5 

Aa.     . 

.    5.. 

.  3. 

.   2 

Vt. 

..5. 

.    2  . 

.  .   3 

Mi.     . 

.    2.. 

.  2 

Ms. 

.  .  12. 

.    2. 

.10 

La.     . 

.    3.. 

.   3 

R.  L 

..2. 

..   2 

Te.     . 

.  13.  . 

.    6  . 

.   7 

■Ct. 

..    6. 

..   6 

Ky.     . 

.  13.  . 

.    2. 

.11 

■W.Y. 

..40.. 

.19. 

..20. 

..  1 

0:       . 

.  19  .  . 

.  11  . 

.   8 

N.J. 

..    6. 

..    1  . 

.5 

la.       . 

.7.. 

.    6. 

.    2 

Pa. 

..28. 

.17. 

..11 

Is.       . 

.    3.  . 

.    2. 

.    1 

Dc. 

..    1  . 

.    1 

Mo.     . 

.2.. 

.    2 

Md. 

..8. 

.    5  . 

.  .   3 

Mn.     . 

.    1  .  . 

.    1 

Va. 

.,21  . 

.  12. 

.    6. 

.  1  . 

.2 

As.      . 

.    1  .  . 

.    1 

N.  C. 

..13. 

.    8. 

.    5 

Terri-  i  _ 
lories.  5  * 

.    3.  . 

.    3 

s.c. 

.  .    9. 

.    7  . 

.   2 





245       122       109       II 


Five  members  from  New  Jersey,  whose  election  is  contested,  are  set 
down  among  the  doubtful.  The  contest  is  between  John  B.  Aycrigg, 
William  Halsted,  J.  P.  B.  Maxwell,  Charles  C.  Stratton,  and  Thomas 
J.  York,  ichigs,  and  W.  R.  Cooper,  P.  Dickerson,  Joseph  Kille,  D.  B. 
Ryall,  and  P.  D.  Vroom,  democrats. 


VARIETY.  20/ 


VARIETY. 


The  Mother.  —  Heaven  has  imprinted  on  the  mother's  face  something  which 
claims  kindred  with  the  skies.  The  waking',  watchful  eye,  which  keeps  its  tireless 
vigils  over  her  slumbering  child  —  the  tender  look  and  the  angelic  smile,  are  ob- 
jects which  neither  the  pencil  nor  the  chisel  can  reach,  and  which  poetry  fails  in 
attempting  to  portray.  Upon  the  eulogies  of  the  most  eloquent  tongue  we  should 
find  Tekel  written.  It  is  in  the  sympathies  of  the  heart  alone,  where  lives  the 
lovely  picture,  and  the  eye  may  look  sibroad  in  vain  for  its  counterpart  iu  the  works 
of  art. 

Petrarch  and  Laura.  —  ^Vhen  Petrarch  first  saw  Laura,  she  was  young  and 
beautiful  —  he  loved  her  —  and  the  feeling  ended  onlv  with  his  life.  In  a  few 
years  afterwards,  she  lost  all  her  beauty.  \Vhen  hardly  thirty-five  years  of  age, 
Petrarch  said  in  one  of  his  works,  "  If  I  had  loved  her  pei8<Mi«uly,  I  had  changed 
long  since."  His  friends  wondered  how  a  beauty  so  withejfed  should  continue  to 
inspire  so  ardent  an  attachment.  "  What  matters  it,"  amswered  Petrarch,  "if  the 
bow  can  no  longer  wound,  since  the  wound  once  infiicted  continues  to  bleed  ?  " 

Religion.  —  Let  this  idea  dwell  in  our  minds,  that  our  duties  to  God  and  our 
duties  to  men  are  not  distinct  and  independent  duties,  but  are  involved  in  each 
other  ;  that  devotion  and  virtue  are  not  different  things,  but  the  same  thing;  cither 
in  different  stages  or  in  different  stations,  in  different  points  of  progress  or  circum- 
stances of  situation.  What  we  call  devotion,  for  the  sake  of  distinction,  during  its 
initiatory  and  instrumental  exercises,  is  devotion  in  its  infancy  ;  the  virtue  which, 
after  a  lime,  it  produces,  is  devotion  in  its  meiturity  :  the  contemplation  of  Deity  is 
devotion  at  rest  j  tlie  execution  of  his  conrunands  is  devotion  in  action.  Praise  is 
religion  in  the  temple  or  in  the  closet ;  industry,  from  a  sense  of  duty,  is  religion  in 
the  shop  or  field  ;  commercial  integrity  b  religion  in  the  mart ;  the  communication 
of  consolation  is  reliffion  in  the  chamber  of  sickness  ;  paternal  instruction  is  reli- 
gion at  the  hearth  ;  justice  is  religion  on  the  bench  ;  patriotism  is  religion  in  the 
public  coimcils.  —  Francis, 

Music.  —  Music^  remarks  old  Burton,  is  the  medicine  of  the  mind ;  it  rouses  and 
revives  the  languishing  soul ;  affects  not  only  the  ears,  but  the  very  arteries ; 
awakens  the  dormant  powers  of  life,  raises  the  animal  spirits,  and  renders  the  dull, 
severe,  and  sorrowful  mind  erect  and  nimble.  According  to  Cassiodorus,  it  will 
not  only  expel  the  severest  grief,  soften  the  most  violent  hatred,  mitigate  the  sharp- 
est spleen,  but  extenuate  feju'  and  fury,  appease  cruelty,  aibate  Heaviness,  and 
bring  the  mind  to  quietude  and  rest. 

Tliree  Great  Physiciatis.— The  bedside  of  the  celebrated  Dumoulin,  a  few 
'  hours  before  he  breathed  his  last,  was  surrounded  by  (he  most  eminent  physicians 
of  Paris,  who  affected  to  think  that  his  death  would  be  an  irreparable  loss  to  the 
profession.  "  Gentlemen,"  said  Dumoulin,  "  you  are  in  error ;  I  shall  leave  be- 
nind  me  three  distinguished  physicians."  Being  pressed  to  name  them,  as  each 
expected  to  be  incluaed  in  the  tno,  he  answered,  "  Water,  Exercise,  and  Diet." 

Ori(rin  of  Disease.  —  I  tell  you  honestly  what  I  think  is  the  cause  of  the  compli- 
cated maladies  of  the  human  frame ;  it  is  their  gormandizing,  and  stuffing,  and 
stimulating  the  digestive  organs  to  excess ;  thereby  producing  nervous  disorder 
and  irritation.  The  state  of  their  minds  is  another  grand  cause  —  the  fidgetin'j 
and  discontenting  yourself  about  that  which  cemnot  be  helped ;  passions  of  all 
kinds  —  malignant  peissions  and  worldly  cares  pressing  upon  the  muid  — disturb 
the  cerebral  action,  and  do  a  great  deal  of  harm.  —  Aberruthy. 

Education. — Education  is  a  companion  which  no  misfortune  can  depress,  no 
climate  destroy,  no  enemy  alienate,  no  despotism  enslave;  —  at  home  a  friend, 
abroad  an  introduction  ;  in  solitude  aujolace,  in  society  tin  ornament.  It  lessens 
vice  ;  it  guides  virtue ;  it  gives  at  once  grace  and  govcniincnt  to  the  genius. 
Without  It,  what  is  man  ?  A  splendid  slave  !  a  reasoning  savage  !  vacillating  be- 
tween the  dignity  of  an  intelligence  derived  from  God,  and  the  degradation  of 
brutal  passion. 


202  THE    FAMILY    VISITOR. 

Life.  —  Our  state  in  this  vale  of  tears  is  a  mixed  one.  Life  may  be  likened  to 
tlie  winds  5  ever  shifting  and  never  alike.  Sometimes  it  appears  as  calm  as  sum- 
mer evenings,  and  again  storms  and  tempests  checker  its  even  surface,  darkening 
every  prospect,  and  rendering  scenes  once  bright  and  joyous,  gloomy  and  bleak 
as  the  caverns  of  death.  But  even  over  all  these  scenes  there  is  one  star  that 
ll^ms  to  brighten.  In  the  absence  of  all  that  renders  life  tolerable,  in  weal  or  woe, 
in  joy  or  sorrow,  it  still  beams  out  alone,  unchanged,  undimmed,  as  though  it  had 
found  its  way  from  the  third  heavens.  It  stands  out  in  peerless  beauty,  dispensing 
its  blessed  light  at  all  times  and  all  seasons,  flinging  its  hallowed  though  not  bril- 
liant rays  across  the  path  of  the  wilderness  :  and  even  in  our  sunniest  moments, 
when  it  is  forgotten,  and  we  steer  wide  of  its  heavenly  direction,  still  it  seems  to 
twinkle  near  the  blazing  orb  that  burns  when  prosperity  rules  at  the  destiny  of  an 
hour.     This  is  the  star  of  Bethlehem. 

Saint  Aspinquid.  —  This  faithful  missionary  was  born  in  1588.     He  was  more 
than  40  years  of  age  when  converted  to  Christianity.     He  died  in  1682,  on  Mount 
Agamenticus,  in  Maine.    On  his  tombstone  is  still  seen  tliis  couplet :  — 
"Present,  useful ;  absent,  wanted; 
Lived  desired,  died  lamented." 

He  was  a  preacher  of  the  gospel  to  sixty-six  difTerent  nations  for  forty  years, 
from  the  Atlantic  Ocean  to  the  Califomian  Sea.  The  sachems  of  the  different 
tribes  attended  his  funeral,  and  made  a  collection  of  a  great  number  of  wild 
beasts,  to  do  him  honor  b}'  a  sacrifice,  on  the  occasion,  agreeably  to  the  custom  of 
those  nations;  and  on  that  day  were  slain  accordingly,  25  bucks, 67  does,  99 
bears,  36  moose,  240  wolves,  82  wild-cats,  3  catamounts,  482  foxes,  32  buffaloes, 
400  otters,  620  beavers,  1500  minks,  1 10  ferrets,  620  raccoons,  900  musquashes, 
501  fishers,  3  ermines,  38  porcupines,  50  weasles,  832  martins,  59  woodchucks,  and 
112  rattlesnakes.     Total  number,  6711.  —  Historical  Collections. 

Anagram.  —  Pilate's  question  to  our  Saviour,  "  What  is  truth  ?  "  in  the  Latin 
Vulgate  stands  thus  —  "  Quid  est  Veritas  ?  "  These  letters,  transposed,  make  "  Est 
vir  qui  adest ; "  "  It  is  the  man  before  thee." 

Extract  from  Bulwer.  —  It  cannot  be  that  earth  is  man's  abiding  place.  It  can- 
not be  that  our  life  is  cast  up  by  the  oceam  of  eternity,  to  float  a  moment  upon  its 
waves,  and  sink  into  nothingness.  Else,  why  is  it,  that  the  high  and  glorious  aspi- 
rations which  leap  like  angels  from  tlie  temple  of  our  hearts,  are  forever  wandering 
about  unsatisfiea  ?  Why  is  it  that  the  rainbow  and  cloud  come  over  us  with  a 
beauty  that  is  not  of  earth,  and  then  pass  off,  and  leave  us  to  muse  upon  their  faded 
loveliness  ?  Why  is  it  that  the  steu-s,  who  hold  their  "  festival  around  the  midnight 
throne,"  are  set  above  the  grasp  of  our  limited  faculties,  forever  mocking  us  with 
their  unapproachable  glory  1  And  finally,  why  is  it  that  brighter  forms  of  human 
beauty  are  presented  to  our  view,  and  then  taken  from  us,  leaving  the  thousand 
streams  of  our  affection  to  flow  back  in  Alpine  torrents  upon  our  hearts  ?  We  are 
bom  for  a  higher  destiny  than  that  of  earth ;  there  is  a  realm  where  the  rainbow  ' 
never  fades;  where  the  stars  will  be  spread  out  before  us  like  islands  that  slumber 
on  the  ocean  ;  and  where  the  beautiful  beings  which  here  pass  before  us  like  shad- 
ows, will  stay  in  our  presence  forever. 

•^ 
A  Mother's  Love.  —  By  Bulwer. 
Oh !  in  our  sterner  manhood,  when  no  ray 
^  Of  earlier  sunshine  glimmers  on  our  way. 

When  girt  with  sins  and  sorrows,  and  the  toil 
Of  cares  which  rend  the  bosom  that  they  soil ;  — 
Oh  !  if  there  be  in  retrospection's  chain 
One  link  that  knits  us  with  young  life  again. 
One  thought  so  sweet  we  scarcely  dare  to  muse 
On  all  the  hoarded  raptures  it  reviews. 
Which  seems  an  instant  in  its  backward  range, 
The  heart  to  soften,  and  its  ties  to  change, 
And  every  spring,  untouched  for  years,  to  move, 
It  is  —  the  memory  of  a  mother's  love. 


VARIETY.  203 

A  Beauli^al  Sentiment. — The  late  eminent  jud^e,  Sir  Allen  Park,  once  said  at  a 
public  meeting  in  London  —  "  We  live  in  the  midst  of  blessings,  till  we  are  utterly 
insensible  of  their  greatness,  and  of  the  sources  from  whence  they  flow.  We  speak 
of  our  civilizaiipn,  our  arts,  our  freedom,  our  laws,  and  forget  entirely  how  large  a 
share  of  all  is  due  to  Christianity.  Blot  Christianity  out  of  the  page  of  man's 
history,  and  what  would  his  laws  have  been  ?  —  what  his  civilization  ?  Christianity 
is  mixed  up  with  our  ver}-  being  and  our  daily  life  :  there  is  not  a  familiar  object 
round  us  which  does  not  wear  a  mark ;  not  a  being  or  a  thing  which  does  not  wear 
a  diflerent  aspect,  because  the  light,  of  Christian  hope  is  on  it ;  not  a  righteous 
law  which  does  not  owe  its  truth  and  gentleness  to  Christianity ;  not  a  salutary 
custom  which  cannot  be  traced  in  all  its  holy  and  healthful  parts  to  the  gospel." 

Entailed  Estate.  —  Every  man  who  desires  to  entail  a  valuable  and  enduring  in- 
heritance on  his  children,  which  cannot  be  docked,  of  which  rogues  cannot  defraud 
them,  and  on  which  the  sheriff  can't  levy  execution,  and  which  they  can't  alienate 
by  a  general  assignment,  —  may  accomplish  his  wishes  by  bringing  them  up  in  habits 
of  persevering  industry  in  any  useful  calling;  by  instilling  into  them  habits  of  sound 
economy  ;  and,  above  all,  by  imbuing  their  minds  with  correct  and  practical  views 
of  moral  and  religious  obligations. 

Minding:  one's  Bn.iine.fs.  —  A  New  England  fanner  said,  that  last  year  he  had 
made  1500  dollars  by  minding  his  own  business,  and  500  dollars  by  letting  the  busi- 
ness of  others  alone  ;  in  all,  §,000  dollars.  Query.  What  would  this  amount  to, 
reckoning  it  an  annuity  of  2,000  dollars  at  six  per  cent.,  compound  interest,  for 
thirty  years.     Ans.  5158,116  37  cents. 

Wealth.  —  Wealth  in  this  country  may  be  traced  baw;k  to  industry  and  frugality  r 
the  paths  which  lead  to  it  are  open  to  all ;  and  such  is  the  joint  operation  of  the 
lew,  and  the  customs  of  society,  that  the  wheel  of  fortune  is  in  constant  revolution, 
and  the  poor  in  one  generation  furnishes  the  rich  of  the  ne.xt.  The  rich  man,  who 
treats  poverty  with  arrogance  and  contempt,  tramples  upon  the  ashes  of  his  father 
or  his  grandfather ;  the  poor  man,  who  nourishes  feelings  of  unkindncss  and  bitter- 
ness against  wealth,  makes  war  with  the  prospects  of  his  children,  and  tlie  order  of 
things  m  which  he  lives.  —  Edioard  Everett. 

Compliment  to  Washington.  —  A  volume  was  presented  to  General  Washington, 
in  17Sn,  by  Lord  Erskinc,  on  a  blank  page  of  which  he  wrote  the  following  note, 
containing,  perhaps,  the  happiest  culogium  of  the  many  bestowed  upon  that  won- 
derful man  :  — 

"  Sir,^I  have  taken  the  liberty  to  in(ro<luce  your  august  and  immortal  name  in 
a  short  sentence,  which  is  to  be  found  in  the  book  fsend  you.  I  have  a  large 
acquaintance  among  the  most  valuable  and  exalted  classes  of  men,  but  you  are  the 
only  human  being  for  whopi  I  ever  felt  an  awful  reverence.  I  sincerely  pray  God 
te  grant  a  long  and  serene  evening  to  a  life  so  gloriously'  devoted  to  the  nappincss 
of  the  world." 

Moral  Grandeur.  —  "  WTiat  is  moral  grandeur  ?  It  is  the  singulai^ombination 
of  the  most  pure  and  elevated  principles,  and  eminent  virtues,  brought  into  action 
bjfnncommon  impulses  and  formidable  dillicullics  and  conflicts.  It  is  not  produced 
in  the  calm  stream  of  peaceful  life,  where  struggles  arc  comparatively  notliing,  and 
where  all  may  attain  to  the  beauty  of  moral  excellence.  It  is  formed  in  the  crisis 
of  moral  convulsions.  It  is  the  noblest  enerj^y  of  man,  meeting,  with  conscious 
rectitude,  unparalleled  firmness,  emd  unruflled  spirit,  the  severer  assaults  of  the 
tremendous  powers  of  darkness.  It  is  born  in  the  hour  of  some  awful  civil  hurri- 
cane, and  nursed  amidst  the  tempests  of  life.  It  rides  on  the  volleyed  lightnings  of 
a  revolution,  and  conducts  them  away  with  safety  and  blessing.  Its  features  are 
painted  on  the  dark  canvass  of  the  retiring  clouds  of  distress,  with  all  (he  grace 
and  magnificent  colorings  of  the  rainbow.  It  holds  dominion  over  every  evit  pas- 
sion, and  is  the  faultless  model  of  self-government  and  unbeiidin?  inies:rity.  It  is 
a  spirit  of  simplicity,  that  rises  above  and  disdains  the  evienial  decorations  of  life. 
It  aims  at  the  public  good,  without  the^alloy  and  pollution  of  selfishness ;  and 
accomplishes  its  lofly  purposes  only  by  means  that  the  loftiest  spirits  of  heaven 
would  approve.  It  finds  nothing  in  the  universe  to  weigh  against  freedom  and 
truth.     It  regards  the  divine  law,  the  obligations  of  duty,  the  judicial  majesty  of 


204  THE    FAi^IILY    VISITOR. 

conscience,  above  all  the  menaces  of  peri!,  the  insidious  eloquence  of  private 
interest,  and  the  tempting  overtures  of  personal  aggrandizement.  Amidst  the  im- 
perious claims  of  virtue  and  truth,  it  surrenders,  wlien  required,  every  thing,  and 
even  life  itself,  as  a  triumphant  sacrifice,  vvilhout  hesitation  or  regret,  with  a  firm 
step,  a  seraphic  serenity  ot  demeanor,  and  a  martyr-like  zeal  and  majesty.  Such 
was  the  moral  grandeur  that  distinguished  Washington."  —  jKeu.  Dr.  Charles 
Burroughs. 

Reflection  on  Death.  —  "Heavens!  what  a  moment  must  be  that,  when  the  last 
flutter  expires  on  our  lips  !  What  a  change  !  Tell  me,  ye  wlio  are  deepest  read 
in  nature  and  in  God,  to  what  new  worlds  are  we  borne  ?  What  new  bemg  do  we 
receive  ?  Whither  has  that  spark,  that  unseen,  that  uncomprehended  intelligence 
fled?  Look  upon  the  cold,  livid,  ghasllj'  corpse  that  lies  before  you!  That  was 
but  a  shell,  a  gross  and  earthly  covering,  which  held  for  a  while  the  immortal 
essence  that  has  now  left  it ;  left  it,  to  range,  perhaps,  through  illimitable  space ; 
to  receive  new  capacities  of  delight,  new  powers  of  perception,  new  glories  of 
beatitude !  Ten  thousand  fancies  rush  upon  the  mind  as  it  contemplates  the  awful 
moment  between  life  and  death !  It  is  a  moment  big  with  imagination's  g-realest 
hopes  and  fears ;  it  is  the  consummation  that  clears  up  all  mystery,  resolves  all 
doubts;  which  removes  contradiction  and  destroys  error.  Great  God!  what  a 
flood  of  rapture  may  at  once  burst  upon  the  cfeparted  soul! — the  unclouded 
brightness  of  the  celestial  regions ;  pure  existence  of  ethereal  beings ;  the  solemn 
secrets  of  nature  ma}'  then  be  divulged  ;  the  immediate  unity  of  the  past,  the 
present,  and  the  future ;  strains  of  unimaginable  harmony,  forms  of  imperishable 
beauty  may  then  suddenly  disclose  themselves,  bursting  upon  the  delighted  senses 
and  filling  them  with  measureless  bliss !  The  mind  is  lost  in  this  excess  of  won- 
drous light,  and  dares  not  turn  from  the  heavenly  vision  to  one  so  gloomy,  so 
tremendous,  as  the  departure  of  the  wicked !  I^man  fancy  shrinks  back  ap- 
palled ;  while  Hope  and  Charity  whisper  to  the  bleeding  heart  that  where  all  mercy 
IS,  there,  too,  will  be  forgiveness." 

How  to  tell  Bad  Neivs. 
Scene.  —  Mr.  G's  room  at  Oxford.     Enter  his  father's  stowartl. 
Mr.  G.   Ha,  Jcrvas !     How  are  you,  my  old  boy  ?     How  do  things  go  on  at 
home  ? 

f^leteard.   Bad  enough,  your  honor ;  the  magpie's  dead. 

^Ir.  G.  Poor  Mag !  so  he's  gone.     How  came  he  to  die  1 

iSleward.   Overate  himself,  sir. 

Mr.  G.   Did  he,  faith  ?  «i  greedy  dog.     "Why,  what  did  he  get  he  liked  so  well  ? 

Steward.    Horse  flesh,  sir ;  he  died  of  eating  horse  flesh. 

ATr.  G.    How  came  he  to  get  so  much  horse  flesh  ? 

Stewird.   All  your  father's  horses,  sir. 

Mr.  G.    What!  are  they  dead,  too? 

Steward.    Ay,  sir ;  they  died  of  overwork. 

Mr.  G.   And  why  were  ihey  overworked,  pray? 

Stmnard.  To  carry  water,  sir. 

Mr.  G.   To  carry  water  !  and  what  were  they  carrying  water  for  ? 

Stneard.   Sure,  sir,  to  put  out  the  fire. 

Mr.  G.   Fire  !  what  fire  ? 

Steward.   O,  sir,  your  father's  house  is  burned  down  to  the  ground. 

Mr.  G.  My  father's  house  burned  down  !     And  how  came  it  set  on  fire  ? 

Steward.    1  think,  sir,  it  must  have  been  the  torches. 

Mr.  G.   Torches  !  what  torches  ? 

Steward.   At  your  mother's  funeral. 

Mr.  G.   My  mother  dead  ! 

Steward.    Ah,  pooHady,  she  never  looked  up  after  it. 

Mr.  G.   After  what  ? 

Ste^oard.   The  loss  of  your  father. 

Mr.  G.    My  father  gone  too  ? 

Stneard.   Yes,  poor  gentleman,  he  took  to  his  bed  as  soon  as  he  heard  of  it. 

Mr.  G.    Heard  of  what  ? 

Steward.  The  bad  news,  sir,  and  please  your  honor. 


VARIETY.  205 

Mr.  G.   What !  more  miseries  ?  more  bad  news  ? 

Steward.  Yes,  sir.  Your  bauk  has- failed,  and  your  credit  is  lost,  and  you  are 
not  worth  a  shilling  in  the  world.  1  made  bold,  sir,  to  come  to  wait  on  you  about 
it,  for  I  thought  you  would  like  to  hear  tlie  news. 

Good  Sentiments.  — .llie  laws  of  Zaleucus,  lawgiver  to  the  Locrians,  who  lived 
five  hundred  years  before  the  Christian  era,  are  introduced  with  the  following 
preamble :  — 

"  No  man  can  question  the  existence  of  a  Deity,  who  observes  the  order  and 
harmony  of  the  universe,  which  cannot  be  the  production  of  chance.  Men  ought 
to  bridle  their  passions,  and  to  guard  against  every  vice.  God  is  pleased  with  no 
sacrifice  but  a  sincere  heart;  and  differs  widely  from  mortals,  whose  delight  is 
splendid  ceremonies  and  rich  offerings.  Let  justice  therefore  be  studied ;  for  by 
that  only  can  a  man  be  acceptable  to  the  Deity.  Let  those  who  are  templed  to 
do  ill,  have  always  before  their  eyes  the  severe  judgments  of  God  against  wicked 
men.  Let  them  always  keep  in  view  the  hour  of  death,  that  fatal  hour,  which  is 
attended  with  bitter  remorse  for  transgressing  the  rules  of  justice.  If  a  bad  dis- 
position incline  you  to  vice,  pray  to  Heaven  at  the  foot  of  the  altar  to  mend  your 
heart." 

Temperance.  —  "  Tempwramce,"  says  the  Barnstable  Patriot,  "  puts  wood  upon 
the  fire,  flour  in  the  barrel,  meat  in  the  tub,  vigor  in  the  body,  intelligence  in  the 
brain,  and  spirit  in  the  whole  composition." 

Eloquence.  —  The  following  is  em  extract  from  a  speech  delivered  by  a  member 
of  the  Indiana  legislature,  on  a  bill  to  encourage  the  killing  of  wolves  :  — 

"  Mr.  Speaker,  —  The  wolf  is  the  most  ferocious  animal  that  prowls  in  our  west- 
em  prairies,  or  runs  at  large  in  the  forests  of  Indiana.  He  creeps  from  his  lurkinf 
place  at  the  hour  of  midnight,  when  all  nature  is  locked  in  the  silent  embrace  of 
Morpheus ;  and  ere  the  portals  of  the  east  are  unbarred,  or  bright  Phoebus  rises  in 
all  his  golden  majesty,  whole  litters  of  pigs  are  destroyed." 

Optical  Experiment.  —  If  two  pieces  of  transparent  white  paper  be  attached  to 
a  window  and  examined  through  a  prism,  fringes  of  red,  blue,  and  yellow,  will  be 
produced.  Should  the  light  of  the  sun  be  very  vivid  there,  a  very  powerful  arti- 
ficial rainbow  will  result ;  out  if  the  paper  be  increased  in  thickness,  the  blue  color 
will  preponderate. 

Plagues.  —  Chronologists  and  historians  tell  us  that  the  whole  world  was  visited 
by  a  plague  767  years  before  Christ.  Some  of  the  most  remarksible  since  the 
Cfhristian  era  are  the  following  :  — 

Place.  T%me.  dumber  destroyed. 

London, A.  D.  1»17 50,000 

Ditto, 1407 30,000 

Ditto, 1604 4  part  population. 

Constantinople, 1611 200,000 

London, 1665 68,000 

Bassorah, 1773 80,000 

Smyrna, 1784 20,000 

Tunis, 1784 32,000 

Egypt, 1792 800,000 

,.  Smyrna, 1814 30,000 

••  A  Challenge.  —  ^A^len  Judge  Thacher,  many  years  ago,  was  a  member  of 
Congress  from  Massachusetts,  he  was  challenged  to  a  duel  by  Mr.  Blount,  member 
from  North  Carolina,  for  words  spoken  in  debate.  The  judge,  on  reading  the 
message  from  Blount,  after  adjusting  his  wig  and  revolutionary  hat,  said  to  the 
bearer,  "  Give  my  respectful  compliments  to  your  master,  and  tell  him  he  cannot 
have  a  definite  answer  to  his  note  to-day.  Let  him  be  patient  a  short  time,  till  I 
can  write  to  Portland  and  receive  am  answer.  I  always  consult  wit/  toife  on  mat- 
ters of  importance,  well  knowing  that  she  is  a  better  judge  of  famlh'  affairs  than 
myself  If  she  tiMisents  to  take  the  choice  of  becoming  a  icidow,  or  having  her 
hiishand  hanged  Ibr  murder,  I  certainly  will  fight  Mr.  Blount.  Tell  him  not  to  bo 
m  a  hurry;  it  will  not  take  more  than  three  weeks  to  receive  her  election." 
18 


206  THE    FAMILY   VISITOR. 

The  Goods  of  Life.  —  Speaking  of  these,  Sir  William  Temple  says,  "  The 
greatest  pleasure  of  life  is  love;  the  greatest  treasure  is  contentment;  the  greatest 
possession  is  health;  the  greatest  ease  is  sleep;  and  the  greatest  medicine  a  true 
i'riend." 

Wife  advertised. 

"  Whereas  my  wife,  3Irs.  Bridget  McDallogh,  is  again  walked  away  with  her- 
self, and  left  mo  with  five  small  children  and  her  poor  blind  mother,  and  left  nobody 
else  to  take  care  of  house  and  home,  and  I  hear  has  tsiken  up  with  Tim  Ghigan,  the 
lame  fiddler,  the  same  that  was  put  in  the  stocks  last  Easter,  for  stealing  Barney 
Doody's  game  cock,  —  this  is  to  give  notice,  that  1  will  not  pay  for  bite  or  sup  on 
her  account  to  man  or  mortal,  ana  that  she  had  better  never  show  the  marks  of  her^ 
te:i  toes  near  my  house  again. 

PATRICK  McDALLOGH." 

"  P.  S.     Tim  had  better  keep  out  of  my  sight." 

Proclamation.  —  The  following  is  copied  from  a  London  paper,  and  purports  to 
be  a  proclamation  from  the  mayor  of  one  of  the  English  cities,  on  occasion  of  an 
expected  visit  of  their  majesties,  William  and  Mary.  We  copy  it  verbatim,  lite- 
ratimque. 

"  Whereas  his  Majesty  the  King  and  Queen,  is  expected  to  honor  this  place  with 
their  presense  in  the  course  of  their  Tower  !  in  order  to  prevent  them  from  meeting 
no  Impediment  in  his  way ;  the  worshipful,  the  Mare  and  Bailiff,  have  thought 
proper  that  the  following  Regulations  shall  be  prohibited  as  follows.  Nobody  must 
not  leave  no  Dust,  nor  nothing  in  that  shape  before  their  Doors  nor  shops,  and  all 
the  Wheelbarrows,  Cabbadge  stalks,  Marble  Stones  and  other  Vegetables  must  be 
Swept  out  of  the  streets.  Any  one  who  shall  fail  of  giving  offence  in  any  of  those 
Articles,  shall  be  dealt  with  according  to  Law,  without  Bail  or  Mainprize. 

"  God  save  his  Majesty  the  King  Queen 
and  His  worship  The  mare." 

A  Quack  Doctor's  Advertisement. 

To  THE  PCBLIK  PePLE. 

In  offerin  of  my  sarvecis  to  my  fello  citesens  as  a  publik  sarvant,  I  would  pur- 
ticularly  remark  that  I  has  fur  these  last  nine  munth  past,  pade  the  most  strictest 
cares  and  attentions  to  the  study  of  phisik,  and  I  do  hope  that  my  nateral  turn  and 
abileties  together  with  the  most  closest  observation  will  mtitle  me  to  the  publik  con- 
fedence.  ft  wuld  be  rong  in  me  to  purtend  to  anv  high  larnin  for  you  all  know  that 
I  never  rubbid  my  cole  against  these  collidge  walls,  nur  superintended  any  of  these 
United  States  lectur's  for  lite  and  knowlidge  on  phisical  docterins.  But  I  hope  that 
will  be  no  objiction  to  me.  There  is  a  grate  deal  of  these  collidge  fellows  that  noes 
no  more  about  an  Epidemick  oppuration  than  a  3  yere  old  colt,  and  if  you  was  to 
send  wurd  fur  one  of  them  to  cum  and  see  a  pursun  flat  of  his  back  with  Apiplexy, 
they  wuld  no  doule  give  him  cold  water,  which  you  well  noe  wuld  produce  an  in- 
stiiiataneous  evaciation  of  the  bowels. 

31y  Mcdesons  is  Simples,  consistin  of  horehoun,  ambecr,  gymsum  weeds  and 
grean  gord  seeds,  burdok,  tanza,  grean  snake  root  and  mullin  —  and  many  other 
plants  of  the  same  kimmical  nater.  I  have  had  a  good  deal  of  pations  a  wail  tin 
on  me,  and  if  you  just  only  give  me  a  call  I  wuld  even  git  up  nite  ur  daj'  fur  to 
sarve  you.  Your  sarvant,  DOCTUR  PEA. 

Knowledge.  —  "Pleasure  is  a  shadow;  wealth  is  vanity;  and  power  a  pageant; 
but  knowledge  is  ecstatic  in  enjoyment,  perennial  in  fame,  unlimited  in  space, 
and  infinite  in  duration.  *  *  »■■  «  in  the  performance  of  its  sacred  offices, 
it  fears  no  danger,  spares  no  expense,  omits  no  exertion.  It  scales  the  mountain, 
looks  in  the  volcano,  dives  into  the  ocean,  perforates  the  earth,  wings  its  flight  into 
the  skies,  encircles  the  globe,  explores  sea  and  land,  contemplates  the  distant,  ex- 
amines the  minute,  comprehends  the  great,  ascends  to  the  sublime ;  no  place  too 
remote  for  its  grasp,  no  heavens  too  exalted  for  its  reach."  —  De  Witt  Clinton. 

Wonders  of  Philosophy.  —  The  polypus,  like  the  fabled  hydra,  receives  new  life 
from  the  knife  which  is  lifted  to  destroy  it.  The  fly-spider  lays  an  egg  as  large  as 
itself.    There  are  four  thousand  and  forty-one  muscles  in  a  caterpillar.     Hook  dis- 


VARIETY. 


207 


covered  fourteen  thousand  mirrors  in  the  eyes  of  a  drone ;  and  to  effect  the  respi^ 
ration  of  a  carp,  thirteen  thousand  three  hundred  arteries,  vessels,  veins,  and  bones, 
&c.,  are  necessary.  The  body  of  every  spider  contains  four  little  masses  pierced 
with  a  multitude  of  imperceptible  holes,  each  hole  permitting'  the  passage  of  a 
sin^^le  thread ;  all  the  threads,  to  the  amount  of  a  thousand  to  each  mass,  join  to- 
Kclner,  when  they  come  out  and  make  the  sinffle  thread  with  which  the  spider  spins 
Its  web ;  so  that  what  we  call  a  spider's  thread  consists  of  more  than  four  thousand 
united.  Lewenhoek,  by  means  of  microscopes,  observed  spiders  no  bigger  than  a 
grain  of  Scmd,  who  spun  tliread  so  fine  that  it  took  four  thousetnd  of  them  to  equal 
m  magnitude  a  single  hair.  —  London  Courier. 

Haydn.  —  The  poet  Carpani  once  asked  his  friend  Haydn  "  how  it  happened 
that  his  church  music  was  almost  always  of  an  animating,  cheerful,  and  even  gay 
description."  To  this  Haydn  answered,  "  I  cannot  make  it  otherwise  :  I  write  ac- 
cording to  the  thoughts  which  I  feel :  when  I  think  upon  God,  my  heart  is  so  full  of 
joy  that  the  notes  deuice  and  leap  as  it  were  from  my  pen  :  and  since  God  has 
given  me  a  cheerful  heart,  it  will  be  easily  forgiven  me  that  I  seek  him  with  a 
cheerful  spirit." 

Precepts. 
When  yet  I  weis  a  child,  upon  my  heart 
My  father  laid  two  precepts  —  "Boy,  be  brave  ! 
So  in  the  midnight  battle  shalt  thou  meet 
Fearless  tlie  coming  foe  !     Boy,  let  thy  heart 

r^  Be  cleaji  from  falsenood  !     In  the  midday  sun 

^-  So  shsJt  thou  never  need  from  mortal  man 

To  turn  thy  guilty  face."  —  Modoc.  jt^^ 

Splendid  Bedstead.  —  There  has  been  exhibited  in  tlie  palace  of  the  Tamedo,  at 
St.  Petersburgh,  a  state  bed,  constructed  at  the  royal  manufactory  by  order  of  the 
emperor,  to  be  sent  as  a  present  to  the  Schah  of  Persia.  It  is  formed  of  solid 
crystal,  resplendent  with  silver  ornaments.  It  is  ascended  by  steps  of  blue  glass, 
and  has  a  fountain  underneath  so  contrived  as  to  throw  out,  on  each  side,  jetg^of  odo- 
riferous waters.  The  effect,  when  the  chamber  is  lighted  up,  is  absolutely  dazzling, 
as  it  has  the  appearance  of  myriads  of  diamonds.  —Galignani's  Messenger. 

Impromptu. 
Is  there  a  heart  that  never  sighed  ? 
Is  there  a  tongue  that  never  lied  ? 
Is  there  an  eye  that  never  blinked  ? 
Is  tliere  a  mem  that  never  drinked  ? 
If  so,  then  heart,  and  tongue,  and  eye 
Must  tell  a  most  confounded  lie. 

Chances  of  Ufarriage.  —  The  following  curious  statement  is  taken  from  an  Eng- 
lish paf>er.  It  is  drawn  from  the  registered  Ccises  of  eight  hundred  and  scvonty- 
"six  women,  and  is  derived  from  their  answers  to  the  age  at  which  they  respectively 
married.  It  is  the  first  ever  constructed  to  exhibit  to  females  their  chances  of  mar- 
riage at  various  ages.  Of  the  eight  hundred  and  seventy-six  females,  there  were 
eignt  hundred  juid  sixty-five  married  at  the  following  ages  :  — 


3 

at  13 

118 

at  20 

28  at  27 

6 

at  34 

11 

..  14 

86 

••  21 

22  ••  28 

2 

••  35 

16 

••  16 

85 

..  22 

17  ••  29 

0 

••  36 

43 

••  16 

59 

••  23 

9  ••  30 

2 

••  37 

45 

••  17 

53 

••  24 

7  ••  31 

0 

••  38 

66 

••  18 

36 

..  25 

5  ••  32 

1 

••  39 

115 

••  19 

24 

••  26 

7  ••  33 

0 

••  40 

BeatUifid  Extract.  —  When  I  look  upon  the  tombs  of  the  great,  every  emotion 
of  envy  dies  within  me  ;  when  I  read  the  epitaphs  of  the  beautiful,  every  inordi- 
nate desire  goes  oot ;  when  I  meet  with  the  grief  of  parents  upon  the  tombstone, 
my  heart  melts  with  compassion  ;  when  I  see  tombs  of  parents  themselves,  I  con- 
sider the  vanity  of  grievmg  for  those  whom  we  must  soon  follow  5  when  I  see  kings 


208  THE    FAMILY    VISITOR. 

lying  with  those  who  deposed  Ihcm,  when  I  consider  rivals  laid  side  by  side,  or  the 
holy  men  that  divided  the  world  witli  their  disputes,  I  reflect  with  sorrow  and 
astonishment  on  the  little  competitions,  factions,  and  debates  of  mankind  ;  when  I 
read  the  several  dates  of  the  tombs  of  some  that  died  yesterday,  and  some  sixteen 
Ihindred  years  ago,  I  consider  that  great  day,  when  we  shall  all  of  us  be  contempo- 
raries, and  make  our  appearance  together.  —  Addison. 

A  TcMcli  of  the  Sublhne.  —  I  rise,  Mr.  President,  to  argue  the  case  of  the  rich 
man  and  the  poor  man,  and  I  believe,  that  before  I  shall  have  concluded,  you  will 
allow  that  it  admits  of  no  argument.  The  rich  man,  Mr.  President,  dechnes  his 
emaciated  form  on  a  mahogemy  sofa,  cut  down,  hewn  out,  carved,  and  manufac- 
tured from  the  tedl  cedars  of  Lebanon,  which  grow  upon  the  lofty  and  cloud-capt 
summits  of  the  ever  memorable  mountain  of  Jenosophat.  Then,  Mr.  President,  he 
lifts  to  his  cadaverous  lip,  the  golden  china  cup  —  manufactured,  as  is  well  known, 
Mr.  President,  in  Chili,  Peru,  and  other  unknown  and  uninhabitable  parts  of  the 
universe.  While  on  the  other  hand,  Mr.  President,  the  poor  man  declines  his  ex- 
pectation in  a  cottage,  from  which  he  retires  to  the  shade  of  some  umbrageous 
stream  —  there  to  contemplate  the  incomprehensibility  of  the  vast  constellation  and 
other  fixed  and  immovable  satelites  that  devolve  around  the  celestial  axletree  of 
this  terraqueous  firmament  on  high.  Then,  Mr.  President,  after  calling  around  him 
his  wife,  and  the  rest  of  his  little  children,  he  teaches  them  to  perspire  to  scenes  of 
immortality  beyond  the  grave.  —  New  Orleans  Sun. 

Curious  Typographical  Error.  —  The  celebrated  printer,  Henri  Etienne,  son  of 
Robert,  (both  known  in  the  learned  world  bj'the  name  of  Stephanus,)  once  engaged 
in  the  printing  of  a  splendid  quarto  Missal.  The  great  number  of  subscribers 
seemed  likely  to  make  ample  compensation  for  the  heavy  expense  required  by  the 
undertaMng.  After  the  sheets  had  been  corrected  with  the  utmost  care,  the  work 
was  printed  off,  splendidly  bound,  and  delivered  to  the  subscribers.  It  would  be 
impossible  to  describe  the  astonishment  of  the  learned  printer,  when  one  copy  after 
another  was  returned  to  him,  till  all  were  sent  back.  He  required  the  reason  of 
this  extraordinary  circumstance,  and  w£is  informed  that  in  one  place  the  compositor 
had  put  Ici  le  pretre  clera  sa  cullotle,  (here  the  priest  will  take  off  his  breeches,)  in- 
stead of  calotte,  (small  black  cap,)  suid  the  error  escaped  the  correctors  of  the 
press.  In  vain  did  the  poor  printer  offer  to  make  a  cancel ;  the  subscribers,  who 
were  almost  all  ecclesiastics,  positively  refused  to  take  the  work  on  any  terms. 
This  unfortunate  affair  is  said  to  have  been  the  first  and  chief  cause  of  the  derange- 
ment which  afterwards  caused  Henri  Etienne  to  be  confined  in  the  Lunatic  Hospital 
at  Lyons,  where  he  died  in  1698.  There  is  a  copy  of  the  Missal,  with  this  unlucky 
error,  in  the  royal  library  at  Paris. 

Imprisonrmnt  for  Debt.  — During  the  visit  of  an  Indian  chief  to  one  of  our  cities, 
he  asked,  on  seeing  the  jail,  "  What  is  that  building  for  ?  "  The  interpreter,  who 
accompanied  him,  m  order  to  render  himself  intelligible,  observed,  "that  if  a  white 
man  owed  skins  and  could  not  pay  them,  they  put  him  in  that  building."  The 
chief,  after  a  little  reflection,  replied  dryly,  "  Hugh  !  white  man  no  catch  skins 
there ! " 

A  Curious  Blacksmith.  —  In  the  twentieth  year  of  Queen  Elizabeth,  Mark  Sca- 
liot,  a  blacksmith,  made  a  lock  consisting  of  eleven  pieces  of  iron,  steel,  and  brass, 
all  which,  together  with  a  pipe  key  attaclied  to  it,  weighed  but  one  grain.  He  also 
made  a  chain  of  gold,  consisting  of  forty-three  links,  whereunto  having  fastened 
the  lock  and  key  before  mentioned,  he  put  the  chain  about  a  flea's  neck,  which 
drew  them  all  vnth  ease.  All  these  together,  lock  and  key,  chain  and  flea,  being 
weighed,  the  weight  of  them  was  but  oiie  grain  and  a  half. 

Reading.  —  Give  a  man  this  taste,  and  the  means  of  gratifying  it,  and  you  can 
hardly  fail  of  making  him  a  happy  man.  You  place  him  in  contact  with  tlie  best 
.society  in  every  period  of  history.  You  make  him  a  denizen  of  all  nations  —  a 
contemporary  of  all  ages.  —  Sir  J.  Herschel. 

Arab  BeaiUy.  —  Among  these  Arabs  was  one  of  the  most  beautiful  giris  1  ever 
saw  apparently  about  twenty  years  of  age.  She  was  of  a  dark  complexion,  eyes 
black  as  jet;  the  inside  of  her  eyelids  was  blackened  with  kolile  ;  her  teeth  were 
white  as  ivory ;  and  her  long  hair  fell  down  her  neck  and  over  her  shoulders  behind. 


VARIETY.  209 

long  enough  for  her  to  sit  down  upon.  She  had  large  silver  earrings,  and  a  silver 
ring  through  her  under  lip,  gently  drawing  it  down  and  displaying  her  fine  teeth. 
Through  her  hair  was  passed  a  silver  arrow,  confining  her  veil  to  the  top  of  her  head, 
which  was  thrown  back  negligently  over  her  shoulders.  She  was  habited  in  a  long, 
blue,  loose  shirt,  open  at  the  breast ;  her  bare  arms  were  covered  with  bracelets  ana 
amulets  j  a  string  of  beads  wound  round  her  neck ;  her  feet  were  bare,  and  two 
large  rings  were  fastened  round  her  ankles.  She  walked,  as  aJl  the  Arab  women 
do,  with  a  grace  and  beauty  of  carriage  I  never  saw  surpassed ;  nor  in  simplicity 
and  elegance  of  appearance  have  I  ever  seen  a  fine  lady  of  Europe,  with  her 
jewels  and  pearls,  equal  this  plain  and  simple  Arab  girl.  —  Addison's  Travels. 

Friday.  —  Columbus  sailed  from  Spain  on  Friday,  discovered  land  on  Friday, 
and  reentered  the  port  of  Palos  on  Friday.  These  curious  coincidences  shoula 
have  sufficed,  one  might  think,  to  dispel  the  superstitious  dread,  still  so  prevalent, 
of  commencing  a  voyage  on  that  ominous  day.  The  keel  of  Old  Irorisides  was 
laid  on  Friday,  she  was  launched  on  Friday,  went  to  sea  on  Friday,  and  fought 
her  first  battle  on  Friday. 

Honey  Moon.  —  Though  this  word  is  in  common  use,  its  derivation  is  little  known, 
as  nothing  respecting  it  is  found  in  the  dictionaries,  or  encyclopedias.  Its  origin  is 
from  a  custom  of  the  Teutones,  an  ancient  pteople  of  Germany,  who  drank  mead, 
or  metheglin,  a  beverage  made  with  honey,  for  thirty  days  after  every  weddiug. 

Origin  of  the  word  "  Lady."  —  Formerly,  when  the  affluent,  in  England,  lived 
all  the  year  round  at  their  mansions  in  the  country,  the  lady  of  the  memor  distribu- 
ted to  her  poor  neighbors,  with  her  own  hands,  once  a  week,  or  oflener,  a  certain 
quantity  of  bread;  and  she  was  called  by  them  the  leff-day,  that  is,  in  the  Saxon 
language,  the  bread-giver.  These  two  words  were,  m  time,  corrupted ;  ^fA  the 
meaning  is  now  cis  little  known  as  the  practice  which  gave  it  birth. 

Bunkum.  —  The  Philadelphia  World  gives  a  very  intelligible  explanation  of  the 
word  "  bunkum."  It  is  a  corruption  of  Buncombe,  the  name  of  the  largest  and 
most  westerly  county  of  North  Carolina.  As  this  county  is  larger  than  any  three 
or  four  others  in  the  state,  the  North  Carolinians  have  long  used  it  as  a  standard  of 
comparison ;  and,  therefore,  when  they  wish  to  designate  any  thing  as  particularly 
large,  or  as  excelling,  they  say  it  is  as  large  or  equal  to  Buncombe,  which  they 
pronounce  bunkum.  The  people  of  the  county,  in  sportive  allusion  to  its  size,  call 
It  the  State  of  Bunkum.  They  have  divided  it  into  five  districts,  which  thev  des- 
ignate as  follows  :  Upper  Hog  Thief,  Lower  Hog  Thief,  Promise  ¥sat.  Never 
Pay,  and  Screamerville. 

The  Faithful  Dos;-  —  In  Youatt's  "  Humanity  to  Brutes  "  is  recorded  the  follow- 
ing anecdote  of  a  Newfoundland  dog :  — 

"  A  vessel  was  driven  on  the  beach  of  Lloyd,  in  Kent.  The  surf  was  rolling 
furiously.  Eight  poor  fellows  were  crying  for  help,  but  not  a  boat  could  be  got  off 
to  their  assistance.  At  length  a  gentlemen  came  to  the  beach,  accompanied  by  his 
Newfoundland  dog.  He  directed  the  attention  of  the  animal  to  the  vessel,  and  put 
a  short  stick  into  his  mouth.  The  intelligent  and  courageous  fellow  at  once  under- 
stood his  meaning,  and  sprauig  into  the  sea,  and  fought  his  way  through  the  waves. 
He  could  not,  however,  gel  close  enough  at  the  vessel  to  deliver  that  with  which 
he  was  charged;  but  the  crew  joj'fully  made  fast  a  rope  to  another  piece  of  wood, 
and  threw  it  towards  him.  He  saw  the  whole  business  in  an  instant ;  he  dropped 
bis  own  piece,  and  immediately  seized  that  which  had  been  cast  to  him ;  and  then, 
with  a  degree  of  strength  and  determination  almost  incredible,  he  dragged  it  through 
the  surf  and  delivered  it  to  his  master.  A  line  of  communication  was  then  formed, 
cuid  every  man  on  board  was  rescued  from  a  watery  grave." 

Tattlers.  —  Tattlers  and  talc-bearers  of  every  description  are  the  most  despicable 
wretches  with  which  the  world  is  cursed.  Show  us  a  man  that  cannot  or  will  not 
keep  a  secret,  and  j-ou  show  us  a  villain  unworthy  the  friendship  of  a  dog.  'I'here 
is  more  mischief  done  in  the  world  by  these  bleating,  wide-mouthed  retailers  of 
other  men's  concerns,  than  by  all  the  robbers  and  pickpockets  in  the  universe. 
Spies  and  informers  are  worthy  of  no  commiseration,  nowever  miserable  and 
degraded  they  may  become.  "  There  is  no  worse  devil,"  said  Jeremy  Taylor, 
"  than  a  devilish  tongue." 

18* 


310  THE    FAMILY    VISITOR. 

A  Name.  —  The  Woods  of  Lancashire  are  a  distinguished  family,  for  character, 
wealth,  and  talent.  A  laug-hable  circumstance  took  place  upon  a  trial  in  Lan- 
cashire, where  the  head  of  the  family,  Mr.  Wood,  senior,  was  examined  as  a  wit- 
ness. Upon  giving  his  name,  OtthcelL  Wood,  the  judge,  addressing  him,  said, 
"  Pray,  Mr.  Wood,  how  do  you  spell  your  name  ?  "    The  old  gentleman  replied, 

0  double    T 

1  double    U 
E  double    L 

Double  U 

Double  O  D. 
Upon  which  the  astonished  lawgiver  laid  down  his  pen,  sajang  it  was  the  most  ex- 
traordinary name  he  had  ever  met  with  in  his  life,  and,  after  two  or  three  attempts, 
declared  he  was  unable  lo  record  it.  —  London  paper. 

Example.  —  The  influence  of  the  good  man  ceases  not  at  death :  he,  as  the 
visible  agent,  is  removed,  but  the  light  and  influence  of  his  example  still  remains ; 
and  the  moral  elements  of  this  world  will  long  show  tlie  traces  of  their  vigor  and 
purity,  —just  as  the  western  sky,  after  the  sun  has  set,  still  displays  the  glowing 
traces  of  the  departed  orb. 

Power  of  Steam.  —  One  pound  of  cotton,  says  Mr.  Gordon,  in  his  lectures  at  the 
London  Literary  and  Scientific  Institution,  which  formerly  could  only  be  spun  into 
a  thread  of  one  hundred  and  eighty  yards  long,  cam  now,  by  the  application  of 
steam,  produce  a  thread  of  one  hundred  and  sixty-sei^en  miles  in  length. 

Reward  of  Bravery.  —  During  Bonaparte's  time  seventeen  private  soldiers  raised 
themselves,  by  their  bravery  and  talents,  to  the  highest  stations  of  honor  and  profit. 
Two  became  kings,  two  pnnces,  nine  dukes,  two  field  marshals,  and  two  generals. 

Religion.  —  "I  envy  no  quality  of  the  mind,  or  intellect,  of  others;  not  genius, 
power,  wit,  or  fancy  ;  but  if  I  could  choose  what  would  be  most  delightful,  and  I 
believe  most  useful  to  me,  I  prefer  a  firm  religious  belief  to  every  otlier  blessing; 
for  it  makes  discipline  of  goodness ;  creates  new  hopes,  when  earthly  hopes  vanish ; 
and  throws  over  the  decay,  the  destruction  of  existence,  the  most  gorgeous  of  all 
lights  ;  awakens  life  in  death,  and  from  corruption  and  decay  calls  up  beauty  and 
divinity ;  makes  an  instrument  of  torture  and  of  shame  the  ladder  of  ascent  to 
paradise ;  and,  far  above  all  combinations  of  earthly  hojKJS,  calls  up  the  most  de- 
lightful visions  of  palms  and  amaranths,  (».e  gardens  of  the  blest,  the  security  of 
everlasting  joys,  where  the  sensualist  and  skeptic  only  view  gloom,  decay,  annihi- 
lation, ana  tlespair !  "  -^  Sir  Humphrey  Davy. 

Trade.  —  There  is  not,  says  Addison,  a  more  useful  class  in  society  than  Mer- 
chants. They  knit  mankind  together  in  a  mutual  intercourse  of  good  oflSces, 
distribute  the  gifts  of  nature,  find  work  for  the  laborer,  augment  the  wealth  of  the 
nation,  and  increase  the  comforts  and  conveniences  of  life. 

"  To  censure  trade, 
Or  hold  her  busy  people  in  contempt, 
Let  none  presume ; 

Trade  to  the  good  physician  gives  his  balms; 
Gives  cheering  cordials  to  the  aflliclcd  heart ; 
Gives  to  the  wealthy  delicacies  high  ; 
Gives  to  the  curious  works  of  nature  rare; 
And  the  priest  displays,  in  just  discourse, 
HIM,  the  all-wise  Creator,  and  declares 
His  pleasure,  power,  and  goodness,  unconfined. 
'Tis  trade,  attentive  voyager,  who  fills 
His  lips  with  argument." 

77i«  Alphabet.  —  The  twenty-four  letters  of  the  alphabet  may  be  transposed 
620,448,401,733,239,439,360,000  times.  All  the  inhabitants  of  the  globe,  on  a  rough 
calculation,  could  not,  in  a  thousand  million  of  years,  write  out  all  the  transpo- 
sitions of  the  twenty-four  letters,  even  supposing  that  each  wrote  forty  pages  daily, 
each  of  which  pages  contained  forty  difierent  transpositions  of  the  letters! 


VARIETY.  211 

Ancient  Charter.  —  A  charier  granted  by  Malcolm  Canmore,  kin"-  of  Scotland. 
I,  Malcome  Kenmure  King,  the  1st  of  my  reign  Give  to  thee  Baron  Hunter,  Upper 
and  Nether  Powmode,  with  all  the  bounds  within  the  floods^ with  the  Hoope  and 
HoopetowTi,  and  all  the  bounds  up  and  down  above  tlie  earth  to  heaven^  and  all 
below  the  earth  to  hell  —  as  free  to  thee  and  thine,  as  ever  God  gave  to  me  and 
mine  — and  that  for  a  bow  and  broad  arrow  when  I  come  to  hunt  upon  Yarrow  — 
and  for  the  more  sooth  of  this,  1  byte  the  while  wax  with  m}'  teeth,  before  Margaret 
my  wife,  emd  Maule,  my  nurse  —  Sic  Subscribitur.        MzJcome  Kenmure  King. 

Margaret,  witness. 

Maule,  witness. 
1057. 

Slander.  —  He  who  can  choke  the  sweet  flowers  of  social  love,  and  taint  them 
with  disease  ;  or  in  the  paradise  of  earthly  bliss,  where  the  plants  of  virtue  flourish, 
spread  ihe  blight  and  mildew  of  desolation,  haired,  and  distrust;  who  can  crush  his 
neighbor's  fame  to  dust,  and  build  on  its  ruins  ;  who  can  write  infamy  upon  the  brow 
of  others,  to  prove  his  own  purity,  is  neither  man  nor  bezist,  but  a  heartless  fiend. 
Those  who  have  seen  their  dearest  interests  tampered  with ;  who  know  what  it  is 
to  have  the  priceless  gem  of  a  good  name  sullied  by  the  poisonous  breath  of  cold, 
unpitying  slander,  —  these  best  can  say  he  has  no  heart.  If  the  lightning's  flash  ever 
darts  from  heaven  to  strike  the  guilty  down,  it  will  blast  the  nope  of  murderers 
such  as  these.  —  Sir  Matthew  Hale. 

God  alone  can  pardon  Sin. 
A  parent  asked  a  priest  his  boy  to  bless. 
Who  forthwith  charged  him  that  he  must  confess. 
"  Well,"  said  the  boy,  "  suppose,  sir,  I  am  willing;  '*'.  . 

What  is  your  charge  ?  "     "  To  you,  'lis  but  a  shilling." 
"  Must  all  men  pay  ?  and  all  men  make  confession  ?  " 
"  Yes  !  every  man  of  Catholic  profession." 
"  And  whom  do  you  confess  to  ?  "    "  Why,  the  dean." 
"  And  does  he  charge  you  ?  "    "  Yes  !  a  whole  thirteen." 
"  And  do  the  deans  confess  ?  "     "  Yes,  boy,  they  do 
Confess  to  bishops,  and  pay  smartly  too." 
"  Do  bishops,  sir,  confess  ?     If  so,  to  whom  ?  " 
"  Why,  they  confess,  and  pay  the  church  of  Rome." 
"  Well,"  quoth  the  boy,  "  all  this  is  mighty  odd  ! 
And  does  the  pope  confess  1  "     "  O,  yes  !  to  God  !  " 
"  And  does  God  charge  the  pope  ?  "    "  No  !  "  quoth  the  priest, 
"  God  charges  nothing."     "  O,  then,  God  is  best : 
God  can  forgive,  and  He  is  always  willhig ; 
To  Him  I  shall  confess  —  and  save  my  shilling." 

Labor  to  make  a  Watch.  —  Mr.  Dent,  in  a  lecture  delivered  before  the  London 
Royal  Institute,  made  an  allusion  to  the  formation  of  a  watch,  and  stated  that  a 
watch  consisted  of  992  pieces  ;  and  that  43  trades,  and  probably  215  persons,  are 
employed  in  making  one  of  these  little  machines.  The  iron  of  which  the  balance- 
spring  is  formed,  is  valued  at  something  less  than  a  farthing ;  this  produces  an 
ounce  of  steel  worth  4^.,  which  is  drawn  into  2,250  yards  of  steel  wire,  and  repre- 
sents in  the  market  Im.  is. ;  but  still  another  process  of  hardening  this  originally 
farthing's  worth  of  iron,  renders  it  workable  into  7,650  balance-springs,  which  will 
realize,  at  the  common  price  of  2s.  6d.  each,  946^.  5s.,  the  effect  of  labor  alone. 
Thus  it  may  be  seen  that  the  mere  labor  bestowed  upon  one  farthing's  worth  of 
iron,  gives  it  the  value  of  950/.  5s.,  or  |f4,552,  which  is  75,680  limes  its  original 
value. 

Intermarriage.  — A  Mr.  Williams,  of  Doncaster,  England,  had  two  daughters  by 
his  first  wife,  who  was  deceased.  The  eldest  daughter  married  Mr.  John  Wiley, 
the  son,  and  the  younger  daughter  married  Mr.  John  Wiley,  the  father,  a  widower. 
The  elder  Wiley  had  a  daughter  by  his  first  wife,  whom  old  Mr.  Williams  married, 
and  by  her  had  a  son.  Therefore,  the  elder  Wiley's  wife  could  say,  My  father  is 
my  son,  and  I  am  my  mother's  mother ;  my  sister  is  my  daughter,  and  I  am  grand- 
mother to  my  brother. 


212  THE    FAMILY    VISITOR. 

An  old-fashioned  Marriage  Portion.  —  Captain  John  Hull,  who  was  one  of  the 
first  founders  of  the  Old  South  Church,  Boston,  was  a  man  of  wealth.  A  daughter 
of  his  was  married  to  3Iajor  Samuel  Sewall,  in  1640.  As  usual  in  those  days,  the 
father  was  expected  to  give  his  daughter  a  marriage  portion.  So  father  Hull,  afler 
his  daughter  was  richly  dressed  and  prepared  for  the  ceremony,  caused  her  to  be 
j)ut  into  one  side  of  a  large  pair  of  scales,  in  the  presence  of  her  friends,  and  then 
piled  on  dollars  and  crowns,  and  other  silver  money,  until  they  weighed  her  down. 
As  she  was  plump  and  heavy,  this  must  have  been  a  fat  marriage  portion  in  those 
days. 

A  new  Way  of  applying  Leeches.  —  "  Well,  my  good  woman,"  said  the  doctor, 
"  how  is  your  husband  to-day  ?     Better,  no  doubt." 

"  O,  yes,  surely,"  said  the  woman,  "  he  is  as  well  as  ever,  and  gone  to  the 
field." 

"  1  thought  so,"  continued  the  doctor.  "  The  leeches  have  cured  him.  Won- 
derful effect  they  have.    You  got  the  leeches,  of  course." 

"  O,  yes,  they  did  him  a  great  deal  of  good,  though  he  could  not  take  them 
all." 

"  Take  them  all !    Why,  my  good  woman,  how  did  you  apply  them  ?  " 

"  O,  I  managed  nicely,"  said  the  wife,  looking  quite  contented  with  herself. 
"  For  variety's  sake,  I  boiled  one  half,  and  made  a  fry  of  the  other.  The  first  he 
got  down  very  well,  but  the  second  made  him  very  sick.  But  what  he  took  was 
quite  enough,"  continued  she,  seeing  some  horror  in  the  doctor's  countenance,  "  for 
he  was  better  the  next  morning,  and  to-day  he  is  quite  well." 

"  Umph,"  said  the  doctor,  with  a  sapient  shake  of  the  head,  "  if  they  have  cured 
him,  that  is  sufficient,  but  they  would  have  been  better  applied  externally." 

Love  of  Tobacco.  —  The  following  is  a  genuine  letter  from  a  sailor,  on  his  return 
from  an  India  voyage  :  — 

"  Warren  Hasting  East  Indyman,  off  Crravesend. 

"  Dear  Brother  Tom,  —  This  cums  hopin  to  find  you  in  good  health  as  it 
leaves  me  safe  anchored  here  yesterday  at  P.  M.  after  a  pleasant  voyage  tolerble 
short  and  few  squalls — Dear  Tom,  Hopes  to  find  poor  old  father  stout,  and  am 
quite  out  of  pig-tail.  —  Sights  of  pig-tail  at  Gravescnd,  but  unfortunately  not  fit 
for  a  dog  to  chor —  Dear  Tom,  Captain's  boy  will  bring  you  this  and  put  pig-tail  in 
his  pocket  when  bort.  Best  in  London  at  the  black  boy  in  7  diles,  where  go,  acks 
for  the  best  pig-tail  —  pound  pig-tail  will  do,  and  am  short  of  shirts.  —  Dear  Tom, 
as  for  shirts  only  took  two  whereof  one  is  quite  worn  out,  tuther  most ;  but  don't 
forget  the  pig-tail,  as  1  not  had  a  quid  to  chor,  never  since  Thursday.  Dear  Tom, 
as  for  the  shirts,  your  size  will  do  only  longer.  —  I  like  um  long  —  get  one  at 
present ;  best  at  Tower  hill,  and  cheap.  —  But  be  particular  to  go  to  seven  Diles  for 
the  pig-tail  at  the  black  boy  and  Hear  Tom,  acks,  for  pound  best  pig-tail,  and  let 
it  be  good.  —  Captain's  boy  will  put  the  pig-tail  in  his  pocket,  he  likes  pig-tail  so 
ty  it  up —  Dear  Tom,  shall  be  up  about  Monday,  or  there  abouls.  Not  so  particu- 
lar for  the  shirt,  as  the  present  can  be  washed,  but  don't  forget  the  pig-tail  without 
fail,  so  am  your  loving  brother. 

P.  S.    Don't  forget  the  pig-tail. 

Expedient.  —  A  measure  of  some  political  importance  was  suggested  to  her 
majesty.  Queen  Victoria,  as  very  expedient  at  the  present  moment.  "  Tell  me," 
was  her  answer,  with  some  little  indignation,  "  whether  it  be  right  or  wrong ;  if  it 
be  right,  I  will  db-il;  if  wrong,  I  will  not  3  but  never  let  me  hear  the  word  ex- 
pedient." 

BemUiful  Idea.  —  The  wild  man  of  Oronoke  said  to  a  priest.  Thou  keepest  thy 
God  in  thy  church,  as  though  he  were  sick  and  needed  thy  care.  Our  God  is  on 
the  mountain  lop,  directing  the  storm,  and  guarding  us  in  the  still  watches  of  the 
night. 

Tea.  —  In  1663,  the  East  India  Company  "  imported  100  pounds  weight  of  good 
tey."  In  1669,  they  imported  I'lSi^  pounds,  and  in  1678,4,713  pounds;  but  this 
proved  a  glut  in  the  market.  Great  Britain  now  imports  annually  about  23,000,000 
pounds  ottea,  and  the  United  Slates  from  12  to  15,000,000  pounds. 


VARIETY. 


213 


Flowering  of  Fruit 

Trees. 

Year. 
1839 

Peach. 

Chemj. 

Apple. 

Brunswick,         Maine,. 

May  14 

May  21 

Cambridge,          Mass. 

" 

April  27,  begin. 
May  4 

April  27,  begin. 
Wa.yb 

May  10,  begin. 

Perth  Aniboy,       N.  J. 

1837 

"     14 

ti            «                 <i 

1838 

"    6 

"     8 

"     16 

It                   U                           11 

1839 

April  19 

April  22 

April  28 
May  20 

Near  Philadelphia,  Pa. 

1838 

May  1 

May  1 

U                         li                         .4 

1839 

April  10 

April  12 

April  25 

Baltimore,               Md. 

" 

«       8 

"      15 

Norwalk,              Ohio, 

It 

"     18 

April  20 

"     27 

Camden,               S.  C. 

It 

March  22 

"      10 

Liiile  Rock,          Ark. 

u 

Feb.  16 

March  10 

Man  and  Woman.  —  Man  is  strong ;  woman  is  beautiful.  Man  is  daring  and 
confident ;  woman  is  diffident  and  unassuming.  Man  is  great  in  action ;  woman 
in  suffering.  Man  shines  abroad;  woman  at  home.  Man  talks  to  convince;  wo- 
man to  persuade  and  please.  Man  has  a  rugged  heart ;  woman  a  soft  and  tender 
one.  Main  prevents  mi.sery ;  woman  relieves  it.  Man  has  science ;  woman  taste. 
Mem  has  judgment;  woman  sensibility.  Man  is  a  being  of  justice;  woman  of 
mercy.  —  Sat.  Mag. 

Diamonds.  —  The  largest  ancient  diamond  belongs  to  the  House  of  Braganza  ; 
it  weighs  1680  carats,  and,  if  it  be  really  a  gem,  is  worth  neaify  300,000,000/.  ! 
The  celebrated  Pitt  diamond,  now  one  of  the  crown  jewels  of  France,  was  pur- 
chased in  India  b^'  Mr.  Thomas  Pitt,  ancestor  of  the  Chatham  family,  when  gov- 
ernor of  Madras,  m  1701.  In  consequence  of  an  accusation,  that  he  procured  it 
unfairly,  Mr.  Pitt  detailed  the  mode  in  which  he  came  by  it.  He  states  that  Jam- 
chund,  an  eminent  diamond  merchant,  came  to  him  and  offered  for  sale  a  large 
rough  stone  for  80,000/.  After  repeated  haggling  at  subsequent  visits,  he  sa3-s  he 
bought  it  for  19,000/.,  "  for  which  he  paid  him  honorably,  as  by  his  books  ap- 
peared." This  diamond,  which  is  admitted  to  approach  very  nearly  to  one  of  the 
first  water,  and  weighs  136  carats,  was  sold,  in  1717,  to  the  duke  of  Orleans  for 
185,000/.  The  diamond  which  studs  the  sceptre  of  the  autocrat  of  Russia  is 
stated  to  have  been  stolen  by  an  Irish  soldier,  from  an  Indian  idol  (Juggernaut)  in 
Bengal,  whose  eye  it  had  long  been.  The  soldier  parted  with  it  for  a  trifle,  and 
after  passing  through  several  hamds,  it  was  finally  sold  to  the  Empress  Catharine 
of  Russia,  for  90,000/.,  an  annuity  of  4000/.,  and  a  patent  of  nobility. 

Cidiivation  of  Sugar.  —  "  The  gross  product  of  one  hand,  on  a  well-regulated 
sugar  estate  in  Louisiana,  is  put  down  at  the  cultivation  of  five  acres,  producing 
5.000  lbs.  of  sugar,  and  125  gallons  of  molasses  ;  the  former  valued,  on  the  spot, 
at  5icents  per  pound,  and  the  latter  at  18  cents  per  gallon,  —  together,  §297 .50. 

"The  annual  expense  of  each  hand,  including  wages  paid,  horses,  mules,  euid 
o.xen,  physician's  bills,  &c.,  is  §105.  An  estate  with  80  negroes,  annually  costs 
58,330.  The  items  are  as  follows  :  salt  meat,  spirits,  ^830  ;  clothing  of  all  sotis, 
gl,200;  medical  attendance  cuid  medicines,  ^400  ;  Indian  com,;J^l,000  ;  overseers 
and  sugar-maker's  salary,  gl,000  ;  ta.xes,  g300 ;  annual  loss  on  a  capital  of  g50,000 
in  negroes,  at  2^  per  cent.,  gl,250;  horses  and  oxen,  J^l,500;  repairs  of  boilers, 
5550 ;  do.  of  ploughs,  carts,  &c.,  ^300 ;  —  Total,  §8330.  * 

"  Fifteen  acres  are  required  for  each  hand,  5  for  cultivation  in  cane,  5  in  fallow, 
or  rest,  and  5  in  wood-land.  The  annual  consumption  of  wood,  on  an  estate 
worked  by  80  negroes,  is  800  cords.  Two  crops  of  cane  are  generally  made  in 
succession  on  the  same  land,  one  of  plant  cane,  the  other  of  ratoon ;  it  then  lies 
fallow  two  years,  or  is  planted  in  com  or  peas.  One  hand  will  tend  5  acres,  be- 
sides cutting  his  proportion  of  wood  and  ploughing  2^  acres  of  fallow  ground. 

"  The  capital  vested  in  1,200  acres  of  land,  with  its  stock  of  slaves,  horses,  mules, 
and  working  oxen,  is  estimated  at  §147,200.  One  third,  or  400  acres,  being  culti- 
vated in  cane,  yields  400,000  pounds,  at  5^  cents,  and  10,000  gallons  of  m^asses, 
at  18  cents,  —  together,  g23,8(X) ;  deduct  annual  expenses  as  before,  58,330,  leav- 
ing an  apparent  profit  of  515,470,  or  10^  per  cent.,  as  interest  on  the  investment." 


214  THE    FAMILY    VISITOR. 

Value  of  Time.  —  In  our  dealings  with  each  other  tliere  is  nothing  which  we  so 
miscalculate  as  the  ever-varying  value  of  time;  and,  indeed,  it  is  but  too  natural 
to  look  upon  it  as  it  seems  to  us,  and  not  as  it  seems  to  others.  The  slow  idler,  on 
whose  hands  it  hangs  heavily,  holds  the  man  of  business  by  the  button,  and  re- 
morselessly robs  hhii  on  the  king's  highway  of  a  thing  ten  times  more  valuable  than 
llie  purse,  which  would  hang  him  if  he  took  it.  The  man  of  action  ^lnd  of  business, 
whose  days  seem  but  moments,  forgets  in  his  dealings  with  the  long-expecting  ap- 
plicant and  the  weary  petitioner,  that  to  tliem  each  moment  is  far  longer  than  his 
day.  —  James's  Henry  of  Guise. 

The  Vale  of  Oooca. 

"  There  is  not  in  the  wide  world  a  valley  so  sweet 
As  that  vale  in  whose  bosom  the  bright  waters  meet ; 
O,  the  last  rays  of  feeling  and  life  must  depart. 
Ere  the  bloom  of  that  valley  shall  fade  from  my  heart. 

Yes,  it  was  not  that  Nature  had  shed  o'er  the  scene 
Her  purest  of  crystal,  and  brightest  of  green; 
'Twas  not  the  soft  magic  of  streamlet  or  hill ; 
O,  no  —  it  was  something  more  exquisite  still. 

'Twas  that  friends,  the  beloved  of  my  bosom,  were  near. 
Who  made  every  dear  scene  of  enchantment  more  dear; 
And  who  felt  how  the  best  charms  of  nature  improve, 
When  we  see  them  reflected  from  looks  that  we  love. 

Sweet  vale  of  Ovoca !  how  calm  could  I  rest 

In  Ihy  bosom  of  shade,  with  the  friends  I  love  best ! 

Where  the  storms  which  we  feel  in  this  cold  world  should  cease. 

And  our  hearts,  like  thy  waters,  be  mingled  in  peace." 


Sweet  day,  so  cool,  so  calm,  so  bright. 

Bridal  of  earth  and  sky, 
The  dew  shall  weep  thy  fall  to-nig^t, 

For  thou,  alfis !  must  die. 

Sweet  rose,  in  air  whose  odors  wave, 

And  colors  charm  the  eye, 
Thy  root  is  ever  in  its  grave. 

For  thou,  alas  !  must  die. 

Sweet  spring,  of  days  and  roses  made, 
■   Whose  charms  for  beauty  vie, 
Tliy  days  depart,  thy  roses  fade  ; 
Thou  too,  alas  !  must  die. 

Be  wise  then.  Christian,  while  you  may. 

For  swiftly  time  is  flying : 
The  thoughtless  man,  "that  laughs  to-day, 
To-morrow  may  be  dying. 

Varied  from  Herbert, 
by  Bishop  Home. 


STATISTICS    OP   THE    PRESS.  215 


STATISTICS  OF  THE  PRESS  IN  THE  UNITED  STATES. 

The  American  Almanac,  a  periodical  publication,  noted  in  both 
hemispheres  for  its  accuracy  and  value,  says,  that  the  countries  in 
which  the  business  of  publishing  books  is  carried  on  to  the  greatest 
extent,  are  Germany,  England,  France,  and  the  United  States ;  and 
that  from  1828  to  1837,  a  period  of  nine  years,  the  number  of  vol- 
umes of  new  publications  issued  in  Great  Britain,  exclusive  of  re- 
prints and  pamphlets,  was  13,601,  or  151 1  volumes  annually ;  valued 
at  about  two  millions  and  a  half  of  dollars. 

The  number  of  new  publications  in  the  United  States,  in  1836,  was 
about  1400,  the  value  of  which  varied  but  little  from  two  millions 
of  dollars.  It  is  stated  that  the  amount  of  literary  productions,  in 
America,  has  more  than  doubled  during  the  last  ten  years. 

"  The  Periodical  Press,  comprising  newspapers,  magazines,  reviews, 
&c.,  devoted  to  religion,  politics,  literature,  arts,  science,  intelligence, 
amusements,  &c.,  forms  a  remarkable  feature  of  the  modern  state  of 
society,  and  is  one  of  tlie  most  momentous  consequences  of  the  invention 
of  the  art  of  printing.  Periodical  publications,  especially  newspapers, 
disseminate  knowledge  throughout  all  classes  of  society,  and  exert  an 
amazing  influence  in  forming  and  giving  effect  to  public  opinion  in  all 
civilized  countries." 

We  have  been  favored  by  Freeman  Hunt,  Esq.,  the  erudite  and 
indefatigable  editor  of  the  AIerchants'  Magazine,  (a  work  which, 
we  rejoice  to  learn,  is  finding  a  place  in  all  our  counting-houses, 
reading-rooms,  and  libraries,)  with 

"The  following  information,  respecting  the  number  of  newspapers, 
magazines,  and  other  periodicals,  published  in  the  United  States  on  the 
Ist  July,  1839,  derived  from  returns  made  to  the  General  Post  Office  at 
Washington :  — 


Maine 41 

New  Hampshire 26 

Vermont 31 

Massachusetts  [at  Boston,  65]  ...  .  124 

Rhode  Island 14 

Connecticut 31 

New  York  [at  New  York  city,  71]  .  274 

New  Jersey 39 

Maryland  [at  Baltimore,  20] 4S 

Pennsylvania  [at  Philadelphia,  71]  .  253 

Delaware 3 

Dist.  Columbia  [at  Washington,  11].  IG 

Virginia  [at  Riclimond,  10] 52 

North  Carolina 30 

South  Carolina 20 


Georffia 33 

Florida  Territory 9 

Alabama 34 

Mississippi t 36 

Louisiana  [at  New  Orleans,  10]   .  .  26 

Arkansas 4 

Tennessee 50 

Kentucky 31 

Ohio  [at  Cincinnati,  271 161. 

Michigan r 31 

Wisconsin  Territory 6 

Iowa  Territory 3 

Indiana 60 

Illinois 33 

Missouri 25 


1535 
"  Of  the  above,  116  are  published  daily,  14  tri-weekly,  39  semi-weekly, 
991  once  a  week.  The  remainder  are  issued  quarterly,  monthly,  and 
semi-monthly ;  principally  magazines  and  reviews.  Many  of  the  daily 
papers  also  issue  tri-weeklies,  semi-weeklies,  and  weeklies.  Thirty-eight 
are  in  the  German  language,  four  in  the  French,  and  one  in  the  Spanish. 
Several  of  the  New  Orleans  papers  are  printed  in  French  and  English." 


AT  SIX  PER  CENT., 

From    §1   to    $16.* 


Prin- 

1 

2 

3 

4 

5 

6 

7 

8 

9 

10 

11 

12 

13 

14 

15  16 

cipal. 

D. 

6 

D. 
12 

D. 

18 

D. 
24 

D. 

30 

D. 

36 

D. 

42 

D. 

48 

D. 

54 

D. 

60 

D. 

66 

D. 
72 

D. 

78 

D. 

84 

D.  D. 

Yis.  1 

90  96 

2 

12 

24 

36 

48 

60 

72 

84 

96 

108 

120 

132 

144 

156 

168 

180 

192 

3 

18 

36 

54 

72 

90 

108 

126 

144 

Se 

180 

198 

216 

234 

252 

270 

288 

4 

24 

48 

72 

96 

120 

144 

168 

192 

240 

264 

288 

312 

336|360 

384 

5 

30 
1 

60 
1 

90 
2 

120 
2 

150 
3 

180 
3 

210 
4 

240 
4 

270 
5 

300 
5 

330 
6 

.360 
6 

390 

7 

420 
7 

450 

8 

480 

Mo.  1 



8 

2 

1 

2 

3 

4 

5 

6 

7 

8 

9 

10 

11 

12 

13 

14 

15!  16 

3 

2 

3 

5 

6 

8 

9 

11 

12 

14 

15 

17 

18 

20 

21 

23 

24 

4 

2 

4 

6 

8 

10 

12 

14 

16 

18 

20 

22 

24 

26 

28 

30 

32 

5 

3 

5 

8 

10 

13 

15 

18 

20 

23 

25 

28 

30 

33 

35j  38 

40 

6 

3 

6 

9 

12 

15 

18 

21 

24 

27 

30 

33 

36 

39 

42 1  45 

48 

'''i 

4 

7 

11 

14 

18 

21 

25 

28 

32 

35 

39 

42 

46 

49 

53 

56 

8' 

4 

8 

12 

16 

20 

24 

28 

32 

36 

40 

44 

48 

52 

56 

60 

64 

9 

5 

9 

14 

18 

23 

27 

32 

36 

41 

45 

50 

54 

59 

63 

68 

72 

10 

5 

10 

15 

20 

25 

30 

35 

40 

45 

50 

55 

60 

65 

70 

75 

80 

11 

6 

11 

17 

22 

23 

33 

39 

44 

50 

55 

61 

66 

72 

77 

83 

88 

12 

6 
0 

12 
0 

18 
0 

24 

0 

30 
0 

36 
0 

42 

0 

48 
0 

54 
0 

60 
0 

66 
0 

72 
0 

78 
0 

84 
0 

90 
0 

9G 

Daysl 

0 

2 

0 

0 

0 

0 

0 

0 

0 

0 

0 

0 

0 

0 

0 

0 

0 

1 

3 

0 

0 

0 

0 

0 

0 

0 

0 

0 

0 

1 

1 

1 

1 

4 

0 

0 

0 

0 

0 

0 

0 

1 

1 

1 

1 

] 

5 

0 

0 

0 

0 

0 

0 

1 

1 

1 

1 

1 

6 

0 

0 

0 

0 

0 

1 

1 

1 

1 

2 

7 

0 

0 

0 

0 

I 

1 

2 

2 

2 

8 

0 

0 

0 

1 

2 

■  2 

2 

2 

2 

9 

0 

0 

0 

1 

2 

2 

2 

2 

2 

2 

10 

0 

,  0 

0 

1 

2 

2 

2 

2 

2 

2 

8 

15 

0 

0 

1 

2 

2 

2 

2 

3 

3 

3 

8 

4 

4 

20 

0 

1 

1 

2 

2 

2 

3 

3 

3 

4 

4 

4 

5 

5 

5 

30 

0 

1 

1 

2 

2 

3 

3 

4 

4 

5 

5 

6 

6 

7 

7 

8 

33 

1 

2 

2 

3 

3 

4 

4 

6 

5 

6 

7 

7 

8 

8 

9 

40 

1 

>  2 

3 

3 

4 

5 

5 

6 

7 

7 

8 

9 

9 

10 

11 

50 

2 

2 

3 

4 

5 

6 

7 

7 

8 

9 

10 

11 

12 

12 

13 

■60! 

2 

S 

4 

5 

6 

7 

8 

9 

10 

11 

12 

13 

14 

15 

16 

631 

2 

3 

4 

5 

6 

7 

8 

9 

10 

11 

12 

13 

14 

16 

17 

70i 

2 

3 

6 

6 

7 

8 

9 

10 

12 

13 

14 

15 

16 

17 

18 

80 

S 

4 

5 

7 

8 

9 

11 

12 

13 

14 

16 

17 

18 

20 

21 

90 

3 

4 

6 

7 

9 

10 

12 

13 

15 

16 

18 

19 

21 

22 

24 

93 

2 

3 

5 

6 

8 

9 

11 

12 

14 

15 

17 

18 

20 

21 

23 

24 

95 

2 

3 

5 

6 

8 

9 

11 

12 

14 

16 

17 

19 

20 

22 

23 

25 

98 

2 

3 

5 

6 

8 

10 

11 

13 

14 

16 

18 

19 

21 

23 

24 

26 

100 

2 

8 

5 

7 

8 

10 

12 

13 

15 

16 

18 

20 

21 

23 

25 

26 

200 

3 

7 

10 

13 

16 

20 

23 

26 

30 

33 

36 

39 

43 

46 

49 

53 

300 

5 

10 

15 

20 

25 

30 

85 

39 

44 

49 

54 

59 

64 

69 

74 

79 

*  For  Explanation,  see  p. 


INTEREST    TABLES.  217 

Interest  Tables— from  $17  to    $90. 


Prin-! 

17 

18 

19  20 

30 

40 

50 

60 

70 

75 

SO 

90 

cipal. 

D. 

D. 

D.  D. 

D. 

D. 

D. 

Dols. 

Dols. 

Dols. 

Dols. 

Dols. 

Yrs.  i; 

102 

108 

114  120 

1  80 

2  40 

3  00 

8  60 

4  20 

4  50 

4  80 

5  40 

2 

204 

216 

228  240 

3  60 

4  80 

6  00 

7  20 

8  40 

9  00 

9  60 

10  90 

3 

306  324;:342:.'?60 

5  40 

7  20 

9  00 

10  80 

12  60 

13  50 

14  40 

16  20 

4 

40S'432!456|480 

7  20 

JB  60 
®  00 

12  00 

14  40 

16  SO 

J^  00 

19  20  21  60 

5 

510 

540 

570|600 

9  00 

15  00 

18  00 

21  00 

^  50 

24  00 

27  00 

Mo.  l' 

9 

9 

10 

1 
10 

15 

20 

25 

30 

35 

38 

40 

45 

2 

17 

IS 

19 

20 

30 

40 

50 

60 

70 

75 

80 

.  90 

3 

26 

27 

29 

30 

45 

60 

75 

90 

1  05 

1  13 

1  20  1  35 

4 

84 

36 

38 

40 

60 

80 

1  00 

1  20 

1  40 

1  50 

1  60  1  80 

5 

43 

45 

48 

50 

75 

1  00 

1  25 

1  50 

1  75 

1  88 

2  00  2  25 

6 

51 

54 

57 

60 

90 

1  20 

1  50 

1  80 

2  10 

2  25 

2  40 

2  70 

^r       ^ 

60 

63 

67 

70 

1  05 

1  40 

1  75 

2  10 

2  45 

2  63 

2  30 

3  15 

W^.         8 

68 

72 

76 

80 

1  20 

1  60 

2  00 

2  40 

2  80 

3  00 

3  20 

3  QO 

^     9 

77 

81 

86 

90 

1  35 

1  80 

2  25 

2  70 

3  15 

3  38 

3  60 

4  03 

10 

85 

90 

95 

100 

1  50 

2  00 

2  50 

3  00 

3  50 

3  75 

4  00 

4  50 

11  j  94 

99 

105 

110 

1  65 

2  20 

2  75 

3  30 

3  85 

4  13 

4  40 

4  95 

12102 

1 

108 

114 

120 

1  80 

2  40 

3  00 

3  60 

4  20 

4  50 

4  80 

5  40 

Days  1  1  0 

0 

0 

0 

0 

1 

1 

1 

1 

1 

1 

1 

2, 

1 

1 

1 

1 

1 

1 

2 

2 

2 

2 

3 

3 

3 

I 

1 

1 

1 

1 

2 

2 

3 

3 

4 

4 

4 

4! 

1 

1 

1 

1 

2 

3 

3 

4 

6 

6 

5 

6 

5 

1 

1 

2 

2 

2 

3 

4 

5 

6 

^ 

7 

7 

6 

2 

2 

2 

2 

8 

4 

5 

6 

7 

7 

8 

9 

7 

2 

2 

2 

2 

3 

5 

6 

7 

8 

9 

9 

10 

8 

2 

2 

2 

3 

4 

5 

7 

8 

9 

10 

11 

12 

9 

3 

3 

8 

3 

4 

6 

7 

9 

10 

U 

12 

13 

10 

3 

3 

S 

3 

5 

7 

8 

10 

12 

12 

13 

15 

15. 

4 

4 

5 

5 

7 

10 

12 

15 

17 

18 

20 

22 

20 

6 

6 

6 

7 

10 

13 

16 

20 

23 

25 

26 

30 

30 

8 

9 

9 

10 

15 

20 

25 

30 

35 

37 

39 

44 

33 

9 

10 

10 

11 

16 

22 

27 

33 

38 

41 

43 

49 

40 

11 

12 

12 

13 

20 

26 

33 

39 

46 

49 

53 

59 

60 

14 

15 

16 

16 

25 

33 

41 

49 

58 

62 

66 

74 

60 

17 

18 

19 

20 

30 

39 

49 

59 

69 

74 

79 

89 

63 

18 

19 

20 

21 

31 

41 

52 

62 

72 

78 

83 

93 

70 

20 

21 

22 

23 

35 

46 

58 

69 

81 

86 

92 

1  04 

80 

22 

24 

25l  26 

3fl 

53 

66 

79 

92 

Q9 

1  05 

1  18 

90 

23 

27 

28 

30 

44 

69 

74 

89 

1  04 

1   11 

1  18 

1  33 

93 

26 

28 

29 

31 

4€ 

61 

76 

92 

1  07 

1  15 

1  22 

1  38 

95 

27 

28 

30 

31 

4'J 

62 

78 

94 

1  09 

1  17 

1  25 

1  41 

98 

27 

29 

81 

32 

4g 

64 

81 

91 

1  13 

1  21 

1  29 

1  45 

100 

2S 

3( 

31 

33 

4!J 

6b 

82 

99 

1  15 

1  23 

1  32 

1  48 

200 

5€ 

5S 

62 

66 

9S 

1  32 

1  64 

1  97 

2  30 

2  47 

2  6S 

2  96 

300JI  84 

8£ 

94|  9S 

1  4? 

1  9-3 

2  47 

2  96 

3  45 

3  70 

3  9fi 

4  44 

19 


218  THE    FAMILY    VISITOR. 

Interest  Tables—from  $100   to    $325. 


Prin- 

100 

125 

150 

175 

200 

225 

250 

275 

300 

325 

cipal. 

Dols. 

Dols. 

Dols. 

Dols. 

Dols. 

Dols. 

Dols. 

Dols. 
16  50 

Dols. 

DoL-. 

Yrs.  1 

6  00 

7 

50 

9  00 

10 

50 

12  00 

13 

50 

15 

00 

13 

00 

19  50 

2 

12  00 

15 

00 

18  00 

21 

00 

24  00 

27 

00 

30 

01) 

33 

00 

56 

00 

59  00 

3 

18  00 

22 

50 

27  00 

31 

50 

36  00 

10 

50 

15 

00 

49 

50 

54 

00 

58  50 

4 

24  00 

30 

00 

36  00 

42 

00 

48  00 

K 

00 

60 

00 

G6 

00 

72 

Oo 

78  00 

5 

30  00 

37 

50 

15  00 

52 

50 

f)0  ort 

50 

75 

00 

S2 

50 

90 

00 

■)7  50 

Mo.  1 

50 

63 

75 

88 

1  00 

1 

13 

1 

25 

1 

38 

1 

50 

1  63 

2 

1  00 

1 

25 

1  50 

1 

75 

2  00 

2 

25 

2 

50 

2 

75 

3 

0(; 

3  25 

*  3 

1  50 

1 

83  2  25 

2 

6.3 

3  0!> 

3 

38 

3 

75 

4 

13 

4 

50 

4  88 

4 

2  00 

2 

50 

3  00 

3 

50 

4  00 

4 

50 

5 

00 

5 

50 

6 

00 

6  50 

5 

2  50 

3 

1.3 

3  75 

4 

39 

5  0(; 

5 

G:. 

6 

25 

6 

88 

7 

50 

8  13 

6 

3  00 

3 

75 

4  50 

5 

25 

6  00 

C 

75 

7 

50 

8 

25 

9 

00 

9  75 

7 

3  50 

4 

38 

5  2o 

6 

13 

7  00 

7 

88 

8 

75 

9 

63 

10 

50 

11  38 

8 

4  00 

5 

00 

6  00 

7 

00 

8  00 

9 

00 

10 

00 

11 

00 

12 

00 

13  00 

9 

4  50 

5 

63 

6  75 

7 

S.-! 

9  00 

10 

13 

11 

25 

12 

38 

13 

50 

14  63 

10 

5  00 

6 

25 

7  50 

8 

75 

10  00 

11 

25 

12 

50 

13 

75 

15 

00 

16  25 

11 

5  50 

6 

88 

8  25 

9 

6.3 

11  00 

12 

38 

13 

75 

15 

13 

16 

50 

17  88 

12 

6  00 

7 

50 

9  00 

10 

50 

12  00 

13 

50 
4 

15 

00 
1 

16 

50 
5 

18 

00 

19  50 

Days  1 

2 

2 

2 

3 

3 

5 

5 

2 

3 

4 

5 

6 

7 

7 

8 

9 

10 

11 

3 

5 

6 

7 

9 

10 

11 

12 

14 

15 

16 

4 

7 

8 

10 

12 

13 

15 

16 

18 

20 

21 

5 

8 

10 

12 

14 

16 

18 

21 

23 

25 

37 

6 

10 

12 

15 

17 

20 

22 

25 

27 

30 

32 

7 

12 

14 

17 

20 

23 

26 

29 

32 

35 

37 

8 

13 

16 

20 

23 

26 

30 

33 

36 

39 

43 

9 

15 

18 

22 

26 

30 

33 

37 

41 

44 

48 

10 

16 

21 

25 

29 

33 

37 

41 

45 

49 

53 

15 

25 

31 

37 

43 

49 

55 

62 

68 

74 

80 

20 

33 

41 

49 

58 

66 

74 

82 

9!) 

99 

1  07 

30 

49 

62 

74 

86 

99 

1 

11 

1 

23 

1 

36 

1 

48 

1  60 

33 

54 

68 

81 

95 

1  08 

1 

22 

1 

36 

1 

49 

1 

63 

1  76 

40 

66 

82 

99 

1 

15 

1  32 

1 

48 

1 

64 

1 

81 

1 

97 

2  10 

50 

82 

03 

1  23 

1 

44 

1  64 

1 

85 

2 

05 

2 

26 

2 

47 

2  67 

60 

99 

23 

1  48 

1 

73 

1  97 

2 

22 

2 

47 

2 

71 

2 

96 

3  21 

63 

1  04 

29 

1  55 

1 

81 

2  07 

2 

33 

2 

59 

2 

85 

3 

11 

3  37 

70 

1  15 

44 

1  73 

2 

01 

2  30 

2 

59 

2 

88 

3 

16 

3 

4^ 

3  74 

80 

1  32 

64 

1  97 

2 

30 

2  63 

2 

96 

3 

29 

3 

62 

3 

95 

4  27 

•   90 

1  48 

85 

2  22 

2 

59 

2  96 

3 

33 

3 

70 

4 

07 

4 

44 

4  81 

93 

1  63 

91 

2  29 

2 

68 

3  06 

3 

44 

3 

82 

4 

20 

4 

59 

4  97 

95 

1  56 

95 

2  34 

2 

73 

3  12 

3 

51 

3 

90 

4 

29 

4 

68 

5  08 

98 

1  61 

2 

01 

2  42 

2 

82 

3  22 

3 

62 

4 

03 

4 

43 

4 

83 

5  24 

100 

1  64 

2 

05 

2  47 

2 

88 

3  29 

3 

70 

4 

11 

4 

52 

4 

93 

5  34 

200 

3  29 

4 

11 

4  93 

5 

75 

6  58 

7 

40 

8 

22 

9 

04 

9 

86 

10  68 

300 

4  93 

6 

16 

7  40 

8 

63 

9  86 

11 

10 

12 

33 

13 

56 

14 

79 

16  03 

INTEREST    TABLES. 


219 


Interest  Tables— from  $3 70  to  $1000. 

Prin-i 

350 

400 

500 

600 

700 

800 

900 

1000 

cipal. 

Dols. 

Dols. 

Dols. 

Dols. 

Dols. 

Dols. 

Dols. 

Dols. 

Yrs.  1 

21  00 

24  00 

30  00 

36  00 

42  00 

48  00 

54  00 

60  00 

2 

42  00 

48  00 

60  00 

72  00 

84  00 

96  00 

108  00 

120  00 

3 

G3  00 

72  00 

90  00 

108  00 

126  00 

144  00 

162  00 

180  00 

4 

84  00 

96   00 

120  00 

144  00 

168  00 

192  00 

216  00 

240  00 

'i 

105  00 

120  00 

150  00 

180  00 

210  00 

240  00 

270  00 

300  00 

Mo.  1 

1  75 

2  00 

2  50 

3  00 

3  50 

4  00 

4  50 

5  00 

2 

3  50 

4  00 

5  00 

6  00 

7  00 

8  00 

9  00 

10  00 

3 

5  25 

6  00 

7  50 

9  00 

10  50 

12  00 

13  50 

15  00 

4 

7  00 

8  00 

10  00 

12  00 

14  00 

16  00 

18  00 

20  00 

5 

8  75 

10  00 

12  50 

15  00 

17  50 

20  00 

22  50 

25  00 

6 

10  50 

12  00 

15  00 

,18  00 

21  00 

24  00 

27  00 

30  00 

7 

12  25 

14  00 

17  50 

21  00 

24  50 

28  00 

31  50 

35  00 

8 

14  00 

16  00 

20  00 

24  00 

28  00 

32  00 

36  00 

40  00 

9 

15  75 

13  00 

22  50 

27  00 

31  50 

36  00 

40  50 

45  00 

10 

17  50 

20  00 

25  00 

30  00 

35  00 

40  00 

45  00 

50  00 

11 

19  25 

22  00 

27  50 

33  00 

38  50 

44  00 

49  50 

55  00 

12 

21  00 

24  00 

30  00 

36  00 

42  00 

48  00 

54  00 

60  00 

Daysl 

6 

7 

8 

10 

12 

13 

15 

16 

2 

12 

13 

16 

20 

23 

26 

30 

33 

8 

17 

20 

25 

30 

35 

39 

44 

49 

4 

23 

26 

33 

39 

46 

53 

59 

66 

6 

29 

33 

41 

49 

58 

66 

74 

82 

6 

35 

39 

49 

59 

69 

79 

89 

99 

7 

40 

46 

58 

69 

81 

92 

1  04 

1  16 

8 

46 

53 

66 

79 

92 

1  05 

1  18 

1  32 

9 

52 

59 

74 

89 

1  04 

1  18 

1  33 

1  48 

10 

68 

66 

32 

99 

1  15 

1  32 

1  48 

1  64 

15 

86 

99 

1  23 

1  48 

1  73 

1  97 

2  22 

2  47 

20 

1  15 

1  32 

1  64 

1  97 

2  30 

2  63 

2  96 

3  29 

80 

1  73 

1  97 

2  47 

2  96 

3  45 

3  95 

4  44 

4  93 

33 

1  90 

2  17 

2  71 

3  25 

3  80 

4  34 

4  88 

5  42 

40 

2  30 

2  63 

3  29 

3  95 

4  60 

5  26 

5  92 

6  58 

50 

2  88 

3  29 

4  11 

4  93 

5  75 

6  58 

7  40 

8  22 

60 

3  45 

3  95 

4  93 

5  92 

6  90 

7  89 

8  88 

9  86 

63 

3  62 

4  14 

5  18 

6  21 

7  25 

8  28 

9  32 

10  36 

70 

4  03 

4  60 

5  75 

6  90 

8  05 

9  21 

10  36 

11  51 

80 

4  60 

5  26 

6  58 

7  89< 

9  21 

10  52 

11  84 

13  15 

90 

5  18 

5  92 

7  40 

8  88 

10  36 

11  84 

13  32 

14  79 

93 

5  35 

6  12 

7  64 

9  17 

10  70 

12  23 

13  76 

15  29 

95 

5  47 

6  25 

7  81 

9  37 

10  93 

12  49 

14  05 

15  62 

98 

5  64 

6  44 

8  05 

9  67 

11  28 

12  89 

14  50 

16  11 

100 

5  75 

6  58 

8  22 

~  9  86 

11  51 

13  15 

14  79 

16  44 

200 

11  51 

13  15 

16  44 

19  73 

23  01 

26  30 

29  59 

32  88 

300 

17  26 

19  73 

24  66 

29  59 

34  52 

39  45 

44  38 

49  82 

220  THE    FAMILY    VISITOR. 


Explanation  of  the  Interest    Tables. 

Suppose  the  interest  is  required  on  $259  for  one  year,  five  months, 
and  ten  days.  Look  under  $250  at  the  top,  and  opposite  to  1  year,  in 
the  margin,  and  we  find  $15 ;  opposite  to  5  months,  we  find  $6  25 ;  and 
opposite  to  10  days,  we  find  41  cents.  In  the  same  way  we  find  the 
interest  of  $9,  viz.,  54  cents  fpr  1  year,  23  cents  for  5  months,  and  1 
cent  for  ten  days :  total  interest,  $22  44.  By  looking  in  the  same 
manner,  the  interest  of  the  same  sum  for  93  days  is  found  to  be  $3  96. 

In  casting  the  interest  on  cents,  accountants  generally  consider  fifty 
cents  and  over  as  one  dollar,  and  under  fifty  cents  as  nothing.  This 
rule  is  founded  on  equitable  principles,  and  should  always  be  adopted. 


IT 


INDEX. 


Page.  I  Page. 

Abstemious  Diet  of  a  Traveller 48 ;  Fruits,  Unripe, 14 

Anthracite  Coal,  Use  of, 9  Future  Life,  The, 49 


Bank  worth  having 105 

•^—  of  England 155 

Bathing,  Eastern, 126 

,VVarm, 85 

Beautv  and  Health 25 

Bible  Statistics 127 

Birds  of  Spring 110 

Blodget's  Timber  Table 74 

Blue  Stockings 62 

Boy,  A  good, 103 

Cattle,  Weight  of, 109 

Champooing.  ...• 126 

Chilling  Politeness 22 

Chinese  Women 26 

.*  Christ,  Personal  Description  of...... .70, 

Chronological  Sketch  ol  G.  Britain..  142 

Clothing,  On, 3 

of  Children 49 

Congress,  U.  S., 197 

Counsels. 109 

Debts,  National, 81 

Defence  of  the  North 63 

Distances,  Table  of, 140 

Domestic  Affection 82,  138 

Dress  in  1360 147 

Duties  to  God  and  Man 95 

Early  Rising 107 

KiTeminacy 121 

Elections,  Table  of, 190 

Electoral  Votes  for  President  of  U.  S. 
from  1789  to  1837 194 

Farmer,  Happy  Condition  of  the,.. ..72 

Farmer's  Life  and  Duties 104 

Farmers 96,  97 

Farms,  Ancient, 107 

Fasting 81 

Feet,  Wet  and  Cold, 12 

Female  Influence 94 

Fire  Woods,  Value  of, 132 

Flowers 65 

Foreign  Moneys •. 120 

Frost,  The, 122 

19* 


Galen's  Experience .48 

Genius  vs.  Labor 72 

Government  U.  S.  1774  to  1840 191 

Governors'  Salaries 190 

Gray's  Elegy 88 

Happiness 121 

Health,  Duty  to, 17 

,  Rules  for,.... 18 


Home 94 

Hope •• • 64 

Hotels,  Large; 133 

Jewess,  The, 128 

Judiciary  U.S.  1789  to  1840 196 

Kingly  Fortune 141 

Knowledge  in  Heaven 68 

Lady-Bug  and  Ant 166 

Ladies'  Snoes 135 

Lapland,  A  Season  in, 106 

Legislatures,  Meeting  of, 190 

,  No.  of  Members,  &c., .  190 


Literary  Wife 76 

Longevity,  Tables  of, 123 

Love-Letters 82,  138 

Mcm's  double  Duty 47 

Man  of  Leisure 49 

Mansion  of  Rest 108 

Marriage,  Advice  on, 91 

Massacnusetts,  Independence  of, 59 

Matrimonial  Bargain 62 

Medicine,  Abuse  of, 79 

Moneys,  Foreign, 120 

Mortality  in  Cities 125 

My  Mother 1 16 

Mystery  revealed 24 

Napoleon ^.....84 

Natural  Science 78 

Nervous  Ladv 18 

New  Englamf,  Compliment  to, 69 

,  Sketch  of, 29 


Newspapers.... .••.•.••••••71 


222 


THE    FAMILY    VISITOR. 


Page- 
Old  Age  of  a  Temperate  Man 76 

Old  Tunes 137 

Peep  into  the  Kitchen 59 

Population  of  the  World, 98 

of  Cities  in  Europe 102 

,  Comparative  View  of, . . .  103 

Presidents  U.  S.,  Prominent  Ccuidi- 

dates  for,  1840, 195 

Printing,  The  Art  of, 71 

Religion  favorable  to  Health 28 

Retrenchment 50 

Reunion  in  Heaven .70 

Sister,  On  the  Death  of  a, 114 

Sisterhood  of  Charity .23 

Sleep 16 

Sleeplessness 16 

Snake,  Fascination  of  the, 118 

Snow-Storm 66 

Soiling  Milch  Cows 186 

Sovereigns  of  Europe 141 

Speculation,  A  good, 21 

Statistics  of  the  Bible 127 

Cotton 122 

the  Press 220 

Slaves 136 

Steam,  Effect  of, 28 

Swimming 86 

Symptoms 19 

Tables  of  Congress  U.  S., 197 


Pat;e. 

Tables  of  Distances 140 

State  Elections 190 

Presidential  Votes 194 

Foreign  Moneys 120 

Government  U.  S,  .......191 

Interest 216 

Judiciary  U.S., 196 

S  late  Legi  slatures 1 90 

Longevity 123 

for  Measuring  Timber 74 

of  Nutritious  Matter  in  Food. 169 

Population 98 

Sovereigns  of  Europe  ....141 

Tide 73 

Time 107 

Value  of  Fuel 132 

W^eather 95 

V^eightof  Cattle 109 

TomTowson 52 

Travelling  with  an  Object  in  View  . .  .82 
Truth 63 

Ventilation,  On, 6 

Washington,  a  Fanner, .96 

Water 129 

Weather  Table 96 

Weight  of  Cattle 109 

Whigs  and  Tories 155 

Whisky  i!s.  Bread 137 

Wolfe,  General, 88 

Women,  Wives,  and  Marriage. .....  130 


DOMESTIC    RECEIPTS 


Page. 

Apple  Bread 161 

Butter 178 

Pudding 162 

Trees 187 

Bake  out,....u. 165 

Barley  Flour 184 

Beans,  Baked 16,3 

Blackberry  Sirup 175 

Boil  your  Moleisses 178 

Bread 187 

Bread  Making 179 

Bugs  on  Vines 185 

Butter,  Bad, 163 

,  Dutch, 170 

,  Winter, 163 

Camomile 181 

Candles 178 

Cement,  Composition  for 189 

,  French, 181 


Page. 

Cherries,  To  dry, 173 

Cherry  Jam, 173 

Chickens 165 

Chimneys 163 

Coffee 160 

Consumption 167 

Cookery,  Its  Advantages, 184 

Cooks 187 

Crackers,  Water, 178 

Cream  Cakes 162 

Curing  Meat, 163 

Currant  Jam 173 

Jelly .173 

Wine 169 

Eggs,  Preserving, 186 

Exemption  from  Colds 179 

Feather  Beds 163 

Fish,  Curing  and  Cooking, 176 

Flies 177 


INDEX. 


223 


Page. 

Flies  from  Horses 176 

Ginger  Sirup 162 

Gooseberry  Jelly 174 

Grape  Jelly 173 

Grease  Spots,  To  remove, 172 

Hay 177 

Housekeepers 170 

Jelly,  How  to  make, 175 

Leather,  Water-Proof, 164 

Lime,  Use  of. 170 

Liniment  for  Horses'  Backs 177 

Milk 168 

Mortar 170 

Mullein  vs.  Mice 185 

Nutritious  Matter  in  Food 169 

Peach  Jelly 174 

Trees 186 


Pics, 


,178 


Poison 168 

Potatoes,  French  Fashion, 162! 

,  Watery, 162 

Preserving'  Pears,  Plums,  Alc, 174 

Green  Corn,  lieans,  &.c.,.180 

———.  Pumpkins 184 

Timber 172 

Preserves,  To  prepare, 175 

Pudding',  Sweet  Apple, 162 

Raspberry  Preserve 173 

Razors,  A  Mode  of  edginj,  ........177 

Receipt  to  cure  Asthma 168 

Bots  in  Horses 177 

Bums 166 

Caiiccr 166,  1841 

• Chilblains 1851 

Colds 1661 

Corns 183| 

Cramp 166  j 

Couuli 11'.'; 


Page. 

Receipt  to  cure  Cough  of  Horses...  189 

Fever  and  Ague ....  183 

Foimder  of  Horses.  178 

Gravel 183 

Hoarseness 166 

^^^— — —  Hydrophobia 181 

Inriammations 167 

Inflamed  Eyes 183. 

Quinsy 188 

— — — ^— — —  Ringworms 168 

Sleigh  Sickness  ....  168 

Sprains  and  Bruises.  186 

Stings  of  Bees 183 

•^^■^—^■^-^  Summer  Complaint.  182 

Swelled  Throats  of 

Hogs 181 

Toothache,  &c., . .  .186 

Warts 186 

Wens 186 

Whooping  Couffh  ..189 

Wounds  of  Cattle.  .179 

Rhubarb  Pies 176 

Rice  Bread 161 

,  Cooking, 165 

Custard 179 

Rocks,  Blasting 177 

Roses,  Tincture  of, 185 

Sago  Bread 169 

Pudding 179 

Smut  on  Wheat ' 172 

Soap  Suds  lor  Plants 181 

Spruce  Beer • 177 

Sugar 176 

from  Potatoes 169 

Summer  Drink 185 

Sweetmeats,  Directions  for  making,  .172 

Tar  for  Sheep ....172 

Tomato 1 38 

Tripe 1 88 

Turkeys,  Fattening, 177 

Water,  Col^,  for  Children 183 

.  Floating  on, 182 

Wood-House 182 


m 


VARIETY. 


j!,^ 


Pj»e.  I  Pagv. 

Alphabet 210  Beautiful  Ssntiment 203 

Anagram 202  Bedstead,  Splendid, 207 

Anrionl  Charier 211    lilacksmilh,  A  rurious, 208 

Arab  Beauty 208  Bravery  rewardc<l 210 

Bmikum 209 

Bad  News,  How  to  tell 204  ] 

BeautifuJ  Extract  .....' 207 1  Cliallengo 205 

Idea 21 2 1  Chances  of  Marriage. 207 


224 


THE    FAMILY    VISITOU. 


Diamonds 213 

Disease,  Origin  of, 201 

Earth,  not  Man's  Home, 502 

Education 201 

Eloquence 205 

Entailed  Estate 203 

Example 210 

Expedient 212 

Faithful  Dog 209 

Flowering  of  Fruit  Trees 213 

Friday 213 

Goods  of  Life 205 

Haydn 207 

Hoiiey  Moon 209 

Imprisonment  for  Debt 208 

Intermarriage 211 

Knowledge 206 

Lady,  Origin  of  the  Word, 209 

Laura  and  Petrarch 201 

Leeches,  New  Way  of  applying...  .212 
Life 202 

Man  and  Woman 213 

M;irring«  Portion 212 

IMiiulin^  one's  Business 203 

I\loral  Grandeur 203 

Mother,  The, 201 

Mother's  Love 202 

Music 201 

Name 210 


Page. 

Optical  Experiment . .  < .205 

Petrarch  and  Laura 201 

Physicians,  Three  great, 201 

Plagues 205 

Precepts 207 

Quack  Doctor's  Notice 206 

Reading 208 

Reflection  on  Death 204 

Religion 201 ,  210 

Saint  Aspinquid 202 

Sin,  God  alone  can  pardon, 211 

Slander 211 

Steam,  Power  of, 210 

Sugar,  Cultivation  of, 213 

Sweet  Day,  so  cool,  &c  , 214 

Tatders 209 

Tea 212 

Temperance 204 

Time,  Value  of, 214 

Tobacco,  Love  of, 212 

Touch  of  the  Sublime 208 

Trade 210 

Typographical  Error 208 

ValeofOvoca 214 

Washington,  Compliment  to, 203 

Watch  Making * 211 

Wealth 211 

Wife  advertised  . . . .  rt 20G 

Wonders  of  Plnlosophy 206 


HAYIVARD'S 


NEW    ENGLAND    GAZETTEER. 


Recommendations  of*  the  Work. 


From  the  Boston  Morning  Post. 

This  is,  unquestionably,  the  best 
work  of  the  kind  ever  issued  from 
the  American  press,  and  will  prove, 
we  think,  a  most  invaluable  book  for 
reference.  The  amount  of  statisti- 
cal information  which  it  gives  ^re- 
ally immense,  and  must  give  a  high 
idea  of  its  author's  industry  and  tal- 
ents, and  for  which  his  work  deserves 
an  extensive  sale.  Every  one  who 
wishes  to  encourage  merit,  and  to 
acquire  knowledge  which  can  be  of 
daily  use,  should  have  a  copy  of  this 
valuable  publication. 


From  the  Independent  Chronicle  and 
Boston  Patriot. 
This  is  a  work  embracing  a  great 
variety  of  detail,  and  consequently 
the  fruit  of  great  labor,  as  most  of 
the  materials  must  have  been  sought 
from  unpublished  or  unarranged 
sources.  It  appears  to  have  been 
prepared  with  great  fidelity,  care, 
and  accuracy,  and  we  doubt  not  it 
will  be  found  not  only  an  extremely 
useful  book  of  reference,  but  one 
which  may  be  advantageously  stud- 
ied by  those  who  are  desirous  of  ac- 
quainting themselves  with  the  prog- 
ress of  population,  manufactures, 
and  improvements,  in  the  different 
parts  of  the  New  England  states. 


From  the  American  Traveller. 
We  have  examined  a  copy  o? Hay- 
ward's  Kew  England  Gazetteer.  It 
is  no  easy  task  to  collect  and  arrange 
the  important  facts  and  statistics  for 
a  gazetteer,  where  the  materials  are 
obtained  from  an  almost  illimitable 
number  of  sources.  Some  compilers 
throw  together  in  chaotic  mass  the 
materials  thus  afforded,  with  very 
little  regard  to  the  accuracy  of  the 
dates,  taking  upon  trust  whatever 
relates  to  tlie  subject-matter  in  hand, 
that  may  fall  in  their  way.  Such  is 
not  the  course  pursued  by  Mr.  Hay- 
ward  in  the  preparation  of  his  new 
Gazetteer.  He  has  not  only  consult- 
ed volumes  and  local  histories,  writ- 
ten letters,  and  availed  himself  of  the 
ordinary  means  of  acquiring  the  re- 
quisite information,  but  has  per- 
formed long  and  tedious  journeys 
over  almost  every  part  of  the  New 
England  states,  and  by  personal  in- 
quiry and  observation,  obtained  in- 
formation that  can  be  implicitly 
relied  upon  for  its  freshness  and 
accuracy:  Mr.  Hayward  deserves 
the  most  substantial  encouragement 
for  his  indefatigable  exertions  in  this 
department  of  literature  ;  and  this, 
the  best  effort  of  his  talent,  enter- 
prise, and  industry,  cannot  fail  of 
securing  a  patronage  as  extensive  as 
its  merits  are  unequivocal.     Every 


New  England  Gazetteer.  —  Recommendations. 


have  been  a  work  of  great  labor,  and 
will  unquestionably  be  rewarded  by 
a  very  extensive  sale.  The  work 
is  prefaced  with  a  chapter  upon  the 
general  aspect  of  New  England,  its 
early  history,  the  character  of  the 
people,  and  the  resources  and  indus- 
try of  the  country.  Such  books  as 
these  are  always  exceedingly  valu- 
able, not  merely  as  works  of  refer- 
ence, but  as  aiding  us  in  forming  an 
estimate  of  the  character  and  condi- 
tion of  a  people. 

From  the  Portland  Courier. 
Mr.  Hayward  is  one  of  the  most 
indefatigable  and  most  accurate  col- 
Jectors  of  statistics  in  our  country, 
and  has  spared  no  pains  or  exertions 
to  make  the  present  work  a  useful 
manual  for  the  whole  land.  This 
Gazetteer  should,  and  no  doubt  will 
be,  in  the  library  of  every  profession- 
al man,  and  on  the  desk  of  every 
bank  and  of  every  merchant  in  the 
country.  He  who  can  obtain  the 
reputation  of  accuracy  in  a  work  of 
this  kind,  must  have  gone  through  a 
course  of  toil  and  patient  industry 
not  to  be  conceived  of  by  those  who 
only  perceive  the  results  as  imbodied 
in  the  work. 

From  the  JVew  York  Gazette. 
Mr.  Hayward  has  produced  a 
work  of  great  utility,  and  it  has 
found  a  ready  and  rapid  sale.  The 
materials  for  the  Gazetteer  were  ob- 
tained from  a  vast  number  of  sources. 
Compilers  not  unfrequently  throw 
together  in  chaotic  mass  the  mate- 
rials thus  afforded,  regardless  of  the 
accuracy  of  the  data.  Mr.  Hayward 
separates  the  wheat  from  the  chaif, 


intelligent  New  Englander,  what- 
ever his  business  or  occupation,  will 
find  this  work  exceedingly  valuable, 
and  almost  indispensable  for  a  work 
of  daily  reference. 

From  the  JVew  Hampshire  Patriot. 
The  contents  of  this  work,  topo- 
graphical, historical,  biographical, 
statistical,  and  miscellaneous,  evince 
persevering  labor,  patient  research, 
and  indefatigable  industry.  A  copy 
should  be  found  in  every  family 
circle,  and  on  the  desk  of  every 
professional  and  business  man. 

From  the  Boston  Centinel  ^  Gazette. 
This  Gazetteer  appears  to  have 
been  prepared  with  much  labor  and 
great  accuracy.  Such  a  work  can- 
not fail  to  be  interesting,  and  par- 
ticularly useful  to  business  men. 
It  is  an  appropriate  manual  for  all 
classes  of  the  community,  and 
should  find  a  place  in  every  count- 
ing-room and  private  dwelling  in 
New  England. 

From  the  Providence  Journal. 
This  is  precisely  such  a  book  as 
we  have  long  been  wanting  to  lay 
upon  our  table.  It  contains  an  ac- 
Qpunt  of  every  township  in  New 
England,  and  a  description  of  the 
principal  mountains,  rivers,  lakes, 
islands,  places  of  resort,  &c.  It 
comprises  an  immense  amount  of 
historical  and  statistical  informa- 
tion, and  is  interspersed  with  nu- 
merous piquant  anecdotes,  princi- 
pally of  the  early  settlers.  The 
whole  is  judiciously  and  systemati- 
cally arranged.  The  collection  of 
Buch  a  vast  number  of  facts  must 


New  England  Gazetteer.  —  Recommendations. 


and  condenses  and  concentrates  his 
materials  with  a  remarkable  degree 
of  faithfulness  and  fidelity. 

From  the  Lincoln  Tdegraph. 

Tlie  amount  of  statistical  infor- 
mation and  necessary  knowledge  in 
this  volume,  is  greater  than  in  any 
work  of  the  kind  ever  before  pub- 
lished, and  has  one  very  essential 
recommendation  over  every  other 
work  of  the  kind  —  that  of  personal 
knowledge  of  all  the  points  treated 

upon.  

From  the  Hartford  Literary  Review. 

We  can  truly  say  that  we  believe 
this  Gazetteer  fills  a  blank  in  New 
England  literature,  which  heretofore 
has  been  felt  almost  daily  by  every 
business  man,  nay,  every  reading 
family  in  the  six  Eastern  States.  Mr. 
Hay  ward  deserves  the  thanks  and  the 
liberal  patronage  of  us  all  for  this 
work ;  it  has  cost  him  a  great  amount 
of  labor,  the  facts  having  been  sought 
out  by  himself,  in  most  cases,  on  the 
spot,  and  not,  like  too  many  money- 
making  books  of  the  day,  merely  col- 
lated and  compiled  from  other  books, 
without  stirring  from  his  own  fire- 
side. The  fact  of  wearisome  jour- 
neys, and  patient,  indefatigable  re- 
search, are  evident  throughout  the 
work.  It  is  also  interspersed,  occa- 
sionally, with  interesting  reminis- 
cences of  by-gone  days,  thus  mak- 
ing it,  besides  a  fund  of  useful 
knowledge,  a  book  of  entertainment. 
Every  man  who  desires  for  himself 
or  for  his  children  a  right  knowl- 
edge of  New  England,  should  pur- 
chase this  book. 

From  Zion's  Herald. 
We    have    examined    Mr.   Hay- 
ward's  Gazetteer  with  much  inter- 


est and  satisfaction.  It  exhibits 
great  labor  and  research,  and  can- 
not fail  of  proving  a  most  useful  ad- 
dition to  the  library  of  every  one 
desirous  to  know  more  respecting 
his  own  beloved  New  England. 
Throughout  the  work,  the  author 
has  judiciously  interspersed  pleas- 
ing anecdotes,  which  makes  it  inter- 
esting to  all  classes  of  readers.  It 
ought  to  become  a  reading  book  in 
every  school  in  New  England. 

From  the  Herald  of  Freedom. 
This  work  evinces  much  labor 
and  industry ;  it  should  have  a  place 
in  every  library,  and  engage  the  at- 
tention of  every  reader.  To  those 
who  are  desirous  of  becoming  ac- 
quainted with  the  progress  of  im- 
provement, the  population,  and  the 
manufacturing  enterprise  of  the 
New  England  states,  we  cannot 
hesitate  to  recommend  Hayward's 
Gazetteer. 

From  the  Exeter  J^ews  Letter. 
Mr.  Hayward  was  well  qualified 
to  prepare  a  work  of  this  sort,  and 
he  has  been  as  industrious  in  the 
collection  of  materials  for  it,  as  skil- 
ful in  arranging  them.  The  Gaz- 
etteer was  much  wanted,  and  will 
be  found  both  interesting  and  use- 
ful. ^. 

From  the  Quincy  Patiiot. 
Mr.  Hayward  has  accomplished  no 
easy  task  in  the  preparation  of  this 
invaluable  Gazetteer.  It  would  be 
difficult  to  portray  the  arduous  re- 
search requisite  in  the  preparation  of 
a  work  of  this  character.  Mr.  H. 
has  produced  a  Gazetteer  which  for 
real  practical  utility  has  never,  to 


New  England  Gazetteer.  —  Recammendations. 


our  knowledge,  been  surpassed.  He 
condenses  and  concentrates  his  ma- 
terials with  a  remarkable  degree  of 
faithfulness  and  fidelity.  Much  of 
the  varied  and  valued  information 
contained  in  this  volume  has  been 
acquired  by  personal  observation 
and  inquiry,  as  the  author  has  vis- 
ited almost  every  section  of  the 
country  he  so  graphically  describes. 

From  the  Jfew  Hampshire  Statesman. 
The  information,  historical,  topo- 
graphical, and  statistical,  found  in 
this  volume,  should  be  in  posses- 
sion of  every  individual,  and  would 
furnish  any  one  with  a  valuable  fund 
ofuseful  and  entertaining  knowledge. 

From  the  Christian  Panoply. 
This  is  a  valuable  work,  and  con- 
tains a  vast  amount  of  information, 
which  every  family  should  possess. 

From  the  JVas/ma  Gazette. 
Upon  tlie  usefulness  of  a  work  of 
this  kind  we  need  not  descant,  for 
that  must  be  apparent  to  every  one. 
The  immense  amount  of  information 
contained  in  it,  renders  it  one  of  the 
most  useful  and  desirable  works 
ever  issued  from  the  New  England 
press.  Every  one  who  wishes  to 
acquire  information  which  will  be 
of  daily  use,  and  an  efficient  busi- 
ness companion,  should  possess  this 
valuable  book. 

From  the  JVeto  Haven  Register. 

This  is  a  useful  and  interesting 
work,  and  well  deserving  a  place  in 
every  family  library  in  New  Eng- 
land as  a  book  of  reference.  In 
addition  to  what  its  title  purports,  it 
is  replete  with  historical,  statistical, 


and  biographical  facts,  connected 
with  the  settlement  and  growth  of 
every  town  of  note  —  and  these  facts 
have  been  collected  from  the  most 
authentic  sources. 

From  the  Providence  Herald. 
This  is  a  complete,  excellent,  and 
elegant  work.  It  comprises  a  vast 
quantity  of  valuable  information  rel- 
ative to  all  the  counties  and  towns 
in  New  England.  For  geographi- 
cal and  statistical  information,  as  a 
book  of  reference,  no  family  or 
counting-room  should  be  without 
it.  It  is  elegantly  printed  on  paper 
of  an  excellent  quality,  and  hand- 
somely and  durably  bound;  and  is 
furnished  at  a  low  price. 

From  the  Hartford  CourarU. 
This  is  a  new,  elegant,  and  valu- 
able work.  It  contains  correct  sta- 
tistical information  of  every  county 
and  town  in  New  England,  and  is 
invaluable  as  a  book  of  reference. 
The  style  in  which  the  book  is  got 
up  is  very  fine.  The  paper,  typog- 
raphy, binding  and  all,  are  almost 
equal  to  those  of  an  annual. 

From  the  Keio  York  Whig. 

This  work  is  prepared  with  unu- 
sual care  and  accuracy,  and  from 
our  personal  knowledge  of  the  in- 
dustry and  assiduity  of  its  author, 
and  from  a  careful  examination  of 
the  entire  contents  of  the  book,  we 
can  speak  unqualifiedly  in  its  praise. 

The  Gazetteer,  in  addition  to  ac- 
curate typographical  descriptions, 
gives  a  concise  history  of  the  vari- 
ous towns  and  cities,  and  their  dis- 
tances from  Boston  and  the  seat  of 
government;   and  also  points    out 


New  England  Gazetteer.  —  Recommendations. 


^»<^»^»»n  »%%%%»»%»»»» 


the  most  pleasant  and  fashionable 
xoutes  for  those  summer  excursions 
which  are  found  so  delightful  along 
the  rivers,  and  among  the  mountains 
of  New  England. — A  copy  should 
be  found  in  every  family  circle,  and 
on  the  desk  of  every  professional 
and  business  man. 

From  the  JVew  Haven  Palladium. 

"  Hayward's  New  England  Ga- 
zetteer" is  so  eminently  useful  and 
valuable,  that  it  will  be  found,  we 
think,  indispensable  to  a  large  num- 
ber, and  will  therefore  meet  with  a 
ready  sale.  We  are  surprised  that 
80  much  matter,  containing  notices 
(and  some  of  them  rather  extensive) 
of  all  the  towns  in  New  England, 
could  be  compressed  into  a  single 
small  volume,  and  that  afforded  at 
the  low  price  at  which  this  is  offered. 
We  believe  there  is  no  other  such 
work  extant.  Every  New  Eng- 
lander  ought  therefore  to  possess  it. 

The  frontispiece  is  a  representa- 
tion of  Boston,  its  harbor,  with  Bun- 
ker Hill,  &c.,  beautifully  engraved. 

From  the  Dover  Advertiser. 
This  work  is  written  in  good  style, 
comprehensive  and  correct ;  and  em- 
braces statistical  facts  and  historical 
delineations,  well  worth  double  tlie 
amount  of  the  subscription  price,  to 
any  man  of  business,  literary,  trav- 
elling or  pleasurable  pursuits.  Mr. 
Hay  ward  is  known  as  the  talented 
author  of  many  interesting  works. 
He  deserves  much  from  the  public 
for  his  industry  and  perseverance  in 
bringing  out  the  Gazetteer,  and  it 
should  be  in  the  hands  of  every  son 
of  New  England,  as  well  as  in  those 
of  other  states,  who  would  learn  the 
history  of  our  country.    Any  one 


travelling  through  New  England,  for 
business  or  pleasure,  must  find  this 
an  indispensable  companion.  It  is 
decidedly  the  best  work  of  the  kind 
we  have  ever  seen.  It  is  ornament- 
ed with  several  elegant  plates. 


.Application  was  made,  in  1838,  to  the 
General  Court  of  Massachusetts  for 
legislative  patronage  to  this  work. 
Tlie  subject  was  referred  to  the 
Committee  on  Education,  which 
consisted  of  Messrs.  Savage  of 
Boston,  Greene  of  JYew  Bedford, 
Wilder  of  Leominster,  Ethe- 
RiDGE  of  Charlestown,  Green- 
leaf  of  Bradford,  Edwards  of 
Southampton,  and  Hooker  of 
Springfield.  The  following  is  an 
extract  from  their  report :  — 

"  It  is  obvious  from  the  nature 
and  design  of  the  work,  that,  if  well 
executed,  it  will  be  of  great  practi- 
cal utility  to  men  of  business ;  and 
indeed,  to  all  classes  of  our  citizens. 
Especially  will  it  be  valuable  as  a 
book  of  reference,  imbodying,  in  a 
condensed  and  comprehensive  form, 
a  great  variety  of  useful  information 
in  relation  to  our  community.  And 
in  regard  to  the  manner  of  its  exe- 
cution, the  committee  are  of  opinion, 
so  far  as  they  can  judge  from  the 
specimen  exhibited  to  them,  that  it 
will  be  a  work  of  merit,  fully  an- 
swering the  purpose  contemplated ; 
and  they  have  a  further  pledge  of 
this  in  the  untiring  industry,  the 
minute  and  accurate  research,  and 
the  skilful  arrangement  and  con- 
densation of  facts  which  have  char- 
acterized the  works  heretofore  pub- 
lished by  Mr,  Hayward,  and  which 
are  now  before  the  public." 

The  New  England  Gazet- 
teer is  sold  by  sxtbscription  only. 


HAYWARD'S    STATISTICAL     WORKS. 


THE     COLUMBIAN     TRAVELLER     AND      STATISTICAL 

REGISTER. 

THE  NEW  ENGLAND  AND  NEW  YORK  LAW  REGISTER, 

for  the  years  1835-6.  —  This  work  contains  the  terms  of  all  tlie  Courts, 
and  more  than  twenty-Jive  thousand  names  of  State  and  Judicial  Officers. 

THE  MASSACHUSETTS  DIRECTORY,   OR  GAZETTEER. 

THE  RELIGIOUS  CREEDS  AND  STATISTICS  OF  EVERY 

CHRISTIAN   DENOMINATION   IN   AMERICA,  with  some  Ac- 
dbunt  of  the  Jezcs,  Deists,  &c. 

PRICES  OF  FORTY  ARTICLES  FOR  FORTY   YEARS. 

COMPARATIVE     VIEWS     OF     NEW     ENGLAND,     NEW 

YORK,  AND  THE   UNITED   STATES  — 1837. 

These  works  contain  a  great  varietyof  statistical,  geographical,  judicial, 
religious,  and  political  information,  compressed  in  a  small  compass,  and  so 
arranged  as  to  answer  an  almost  innumerable  number  of  questions,  on 
those  subjects,  without  labor,  and  at  a  small  expense. 

The  above  works  have  been  liighly  recommended  by  many  of  our  most 
distinguished  citizens.  The  Religious  Creeds  and  Statistics  has  become  a 
standard  authority  in  America,  and  as  such  is  quoted  in  Great  Britain. 
From  among  the  numerous  testimonials  in  favor  of  this  work,  from  various 
religious  sects  and  parties,  we  have  room  only  for  the  following,  from  the 
Saturday  Chronicle,  a  valuable  journal,  published  in  Philadelphia  :  — 

"  In  this  excellent  and  very  useful  work,  the  tenets  of  every  denomina- 
tion in  the  United  States  and  British  Provinces,  are  unfolded  to  public 
view;  and  that,  too,  in  so  concise  yet  comprehensive  a  manner,  that  a 
few  minutes'  study  will  suffice  to  make  a  man  master  of  all  necessary  par- 
ticulars relating  to  any  particular  sect.  One  great  cliarm  of  the  volume 
is  its  evident  impartiality.  The  editor,  who  is  already  well  known  as 
having  published  the  ^Columbian  Traveller,'  has  nowhere  indulged  in 
prejudice  of  faith  or  party  —  the  odium  thcologicum  is  not  to  be  found  in 
his  pages. 

"  Not  only  are  accounts  of  all  Christian  denominations  given,  from  the 
earliest  ages  down  to  Mormonism,but  a  sketch  of  the  religious  sentiments 
of  Jews,  American  Indians,  Deists,  Mahometans,  &c.,  is  also  supplied. 
In  short,  the  publication  is  a  complete  multum  in  -parvo ;  for,  in  a  neat 
pocket  volume,  are  included  the  numerous  creeds,  and  a  description  of  all 
the  different  modes  of  worshipping  the  Creator, 

'  By  saint,  by  savage,  or  by  sage.'  " 

*#*  These  PublicationB  are  for  sale  by  the  Booksellers  generally. 


THE    FOLLOWING    CIRCULAR 

HAS    BEEN    ISSUED    FOR 

THE    NORTHERN    REGISTER, 

BY  THE  AUTHOR  OP  THE  NEW  ENGLAND  GAZETTEER. 


ThiB  publication  is  designed  to  comprise  the  rise  and  progress  of  all  the 
important  literary,  religious,  moral,  and  charitable  institutions  in  New 
England  — an  account  of  the  Churches  and  Ministers  in  the  several  towns, 
from  their  origin  and  settlement  to  the  present  time  — the  rise  and  extent  of 
internal  improvements  —  statistics  of  various  kinds  —  lists  of  Courts,  At- 
torneys at  law.  Physicians,  Literary  and  Religious  Journals,  Newspapers, 
Banks,  Postmasters,  &c.  &c.  —  to  which  will  be  added  brief  notices  of 
distinguished  men.  In  short,  tlie  Register  is  designed  to  comprise  all 
that  may  be  considered  important  and  useful,  in  a  work  of  this  kind,  in 
relation  to  New  England,  and  which  is  not  contained  in  the  New  England 
Gazetteer.  In  the  accomplishment  of  this  work,  the  editor  deems  it 
expedient  to  apprize  his  friends,  by  way  of  questions,  what  are  the  prin- 
cipal topics  on  which  information  is  desired. 

These  questions  may  be  answered  by  our  friends,  in  whole  or  in  part,  aa 
it  may  suit  the  convenience  of  those  who  may  notice  them,  and  trans- 
mitted in  any  way  most  agreeable  to  themselves. 

It  is  very  desirable  that  the  following  questions  should  be  answered  as 
fully  as  possible,  and  such  other  information  appended,  as  may  be  deemed 
worthy  of  record  in  a  work  intended  to  note  a  great  variety  of  facts  in 
regard  to  the  character,  institutions,  and  present  condition  of  every  county 
and  town  in  our  own  beloved  New  England.  By  the  renewed  kindness  of 
his  correspondents  and  friends,  the  Editor  hopes  to  show,  by  the  Register, 
that  the  liberal  patronage  bestowed  on  the  New  England  Gazetteer, 
has  not  been  in  vain. 

The  Register  will  be  brought  down  to  January,  1840,  and  will  probably 
appear  in  April  following. 

Boston,  Septemher,  1839.  JOHN    HAYWARD. 


QUESTIONS. 

What  is  the  number  of  religious  societies  in  the  town  .'  When  were 
those  societies  formed,  and  when  were  houses  of  public  worahip  erected  ? 

What  are  the  names  of  the  clergymen  who  have  been  settled  in  the 
town  ;  when  did  they  commence  their  ministry, and  at  what  time  did  their 
pastoral  labors  cease  ? 

[U^  We  are  aware  that  the  above  are  difficult  questions  to  be  answered, 
without  the  kind  assistance  of  our  clerical  friends,  to  whom  they  are  re- 
spectfully addressed. 


The  Northern  Register. 


The  formation  of  a  church,  the  settlement  of  a  minister,  or  the  erection 
of  a  meeting-house,  are  important  occurrences  in  the  history  of  our  New 
England  towns;  they  serve  as  epochs,  from  which  may  be  obtained,  with 
great  accuracy  and  convenience,  the  dates  of  many  other  interesting  events. 

Please  to  state  the  names  of  the  Attorneys  at  law  and  Physicians  now 
in  practice ;  also,  the  names  of  the  Postmasters  in  the  town,  with  the  names 
of  the  villages  in  which  they  are  located. 

What  institutions  have  you  in  the  town  of  a  moral,  religious,  or  literary 
character .'  Are  there  any  Academies,  High  Schools,  or  Seminaries  of 
learning  of  a  higher  class  than  common  schools  ?  if  so,  be  so  kind  as  to 
state  the  date  of  their  foundation,  their  funds,  the  number  of  students, 
prospects,  and  the  names  of  their  principal  instructors. 

What  is  the  amount  of  money  annually  expended  in  the  town  for  the 
education  of  youth  ? 

If  Newspapers,  or  other  periodical  works,  are  published  at  your  place,  an 
account  of  their  origin  and  progress  will  be  gratefully  received  from  their 
respective  editors. 

What  is  the  area  of  the  town  in  square  miles,  or  acres ;  what  are  its 
agricultural  productions,  and  what  portions  of  the  land  are  cultivated, 
wooded,  or  waste .' 

Do  minerals  of  any  kind,  or  mineral  springs,  exist  in  the  town  ?  if  so, 
what  are  their  character  ? 

If  there  are  in  the  town  any  mountains,  waterfalls,  singular  formations 
of  the  earth,  extraordinary  natural  productions,  or  curiosities  of  any  kind 
worthy  of  notice,  please  to  describe  them. 

What  rivers,  lakes,  or  ponds,  water  the  town .-'  What  is  the  area  and 
depth  of  the  ponds,  and  what  is  the  hydraulic  power  of  the  streams.' 

It  may  be  observed,  that  in  estimating  the  value  of  a  mill-privilege,  that 
not  only  the  descent  of  the  stream  is  required,  but  the  number  of  cviic 
inches  of  water,  "per  second,  at  the  dryest  season  of  the  year,  should  be  fairly 
stated. 

What  articles  are  maniifactured  m  the  town ;  what  is  the  annual 
amount  of  each,  what  capital  is  invested,  and  what  number  of  hands  are 
thus  employed .' 

Did  the  Indians  leave  a  name  to  the  town,  or  to  any  part  of  it ;  or  to  any 
river,  mountain,  lake,  or  pond  within  its  limits.'  If  yea,  please  state  what 
that  name  was,  and  its  probable  signification .' 

Why  was  the  town  called  by  its  present  name  .' 

What  persons  have  resided  in  the  town  who  were  distinguished  for  their 
genius,  piety,  patriotism,  or  eccentricities.'  Brief  biographical  sketches 
of  eminent  characters  are  respectfully  solicited.  They  would  add  much 
to  the  value  of  our  volume. 

Please  to  examine  "  Hayward's  New  England  Gazetteer,"  and  suggest 
any  corrections  or  additions  which  may  be  desired. 


UCSB  LIBRARY 


